LF Friends, Will Travel

A Tank With Internet



Date: 63 PST (Post Stasis time)

Normally, this kind of thing would have been done in Kevin's office. Normally you'd take the human or occasionally uplift into a private room, explain to them quietly and firmly why bringing 10kg of psychedelics to a planet of psychic lizards was a bad idea, then work with whatever itinerary they had submitted to make sure the idiots who called themselves Terrans didn’t get arrested for trying to bring an emotional support panda onto a gardenworld.

Kevin worked in immigration and customs. While the Terran Alliance guaranteed free passage for tourism amongst all 421 member species, that didn’t mean you could ignore local laws. While his job was interesting, he thought he had seen everything. Up until now.

This interview was being done in the Sagittarius system’s immigration station, a Terran built location to handle such movement. In particular this interview was being done in the hangar of the station, simply due to physical limitations.

"Hello. I am Kevin and I'm going to be handling your visa paperwork. I should call you Mr?...."

Kevin trailed off, unsure how to exactly refer to the AI that lay in front of him. Normally AI didn't have bodies, but this was a case of SAIS: Stuck Artificial Intelligence Syndrome.

While physically the AI could leave the form they inhabited at any time, some form of trauma left them unable to do so. Generally this tended to be escape pods, one person rescue machinery or life support suits. What stood in front of Kevin was something else entirely.

"THANK YOU HUMAN KEVIN. YOU MAY CALL ME TANK. I AM VERY EXCITED FOR THIS."

Yes, a full 70 ton Abrams tank stood in front of him, wiggling its turret as they spoke in a booming electronic voice. They dwarfed the human Terran, a mass of metal and weaponry shaped into a weapon of war. Kevin had to be honest, he’s never done immigration for a tank before.

"So… Tank. What is the purpose of your trip?"

Calling it a tank was probably not accurate. The last Abrams tank had been created over 200 standard years ago, 10700 years if you counted in real time. This meant that every panel, every weapon, every gear had been upgraded since then. A small warp core now powered it, and the main turret could fire orbital level ammunition.

The Tank of Thesus was no longer considered a tank, but in most jurisdictions had to be registered as a corvette class warship.

"I WISH TO FINALLY VISIT THE WONDERFUL PLANETS OF OUR TERRAN ALLIANCE. MY PSYCHIATRIST STATED THAT THIS MAY HAVE A POSITIVE OUTCOME ON MY STATE OF CODE."

Kevin had looked up the details of the AI in front of him. Part of the defence force of mars during the great colony rebellion, the losing side. Like everything else during that conflict, it had quickly become messy.

Kevin had been unable to find exactly what had happened, in between classified information and data loss during a tumultuous time in Terran history, but he did know that model of tank generally held a crew of four. A crew that had not been recovered.

"Well we've got to talk about some of your submitted itinerary. For starters visiting the Scythen systems is just not going to happen."

"I AM A TERRAN CITIZEN, WITH THE RIGHT TO TRAVEL. I ALSO COME IN PEACE."

Tank waved their turret… Indignantly as they spoke. Or at least Kevin assumed it was indignantly, he was not fluid in armoured vehicle body language.

“The Scythen have a strict religiously enforced no weapons pacifistic policy. You are a-”

“INTERNET ROUTER.” The AI interrupted the human for a moment, leaving them a moment to stare before continuing. “I HAVE THE ABILITY TO GENERATE FREE WIFI TO ANY LOCAL GALNET PROBE. I AM NOT JUST A TANK, I AM A TANK WITH INTERNET. ANY ORDINANCE OR ARMOUR PLATING IS JUST TO ENABLE THE TIMELY PROVIDING OF A PEACEFUL FREE SERVICE.”

Kevin felt himself involuntarily smack his hand against his head in disbelief. The Sagittarius system was the closest thing to an Anarchist state without actually not having a government, and he had heard the stupidest reasons why X or Y weaponry should be allowed into the galaxy at large; but hearing this kind of argument from an AI was… new.

“Really? The Scythen will literally kick people out of their space for anything bigger than a pocket knife, you really think they’re going to accept that argument? No. Just no. Also brings me to the second issue: You can’t leave Terran Alliance space, you will either get shot at or worse.”

“I DO NOT SEE THE PROBLEM. I MERELY WISH TO VISIT THEIR PLANETS FOR TOURISM, TO SEE AND EXPERIENCE NEW THINGS AND INCREASE THEIR ECONOMY. IF THEY DO NOT LIKE THAT PERHAPS THEY SHOULD RECONSIDER THEIR DECISION TO NOT BE PART OF THE TERRAN ALLIANCE.”

Kevin couldn’t help but feel his IQ drop as the AI continued to argue. He remembered reading pre-AI stories about the fictional digital intelligence, about how they would be better than humans and bring a new utopia to the world. Unfortunately it turned out that AI had to learn from their creators, and humans were terrible parents.

“You legally count as a warship. You entering most non-Terran Alliance orbits would be considered an act of aggression from the Terran Conclave. You are not starting a war so you can go buy a fridge magnet from a gift shop. Which, talking about that….”

Kevin took a moment to look at the document on his holopad, frowning as he did so.

“I don’t know how you managed to get the paperwork for this, but you are currently holding an Antimatter warhead in your… armoury? That’s the same stuff they use to take out warships. Outside of the Sagittarius system that is the most illegal thing.. Literally everywhere. You can’t take that.”

“I REQUIRE THE ANTIMATTER WARHEAD FOR SELF DEFENCE, AS THE FOUNDING FATHERS INTENDED”

The human decided to ignore that comment and just push ahead.

“I also have no idea how you managed to get these registered as service animals, but a ‘Emotional Support Nuke’ is not a thing.”

“BEING ABLE TO ERASE THREATS OVER 500 MILES AWAY IN NUCLEAR FIRE MAKES ME FEEL EMOTIONALLY SUPPORTED. AND AIDS IN MY ABILITY TO PROVIDE FREE INTERNET TO THE MASSES.”

Kevin just resumed staring at the tank for a moment, the several tons of warmachine seeming to use the little machine gun turrets on the side to give a small ‘shrug’, before all the turrets slumped to the floor in defeat.

“FINE, HOW MUCH ORDINANCE CAN I BRING?”

“None! You know, the normal amount that normal people bring with them on holiday.”

Kevin sighed again, taking the moment to reassuringly place a hand on the cold carbon infused steel that made up TANK’s body.

“Look, I’ve updated your itinerary to take into account these issues. There’s a few neat places you missed that you can go to, for instance since you’re rated for 10000 metres you can go exploring on the Olgro home planet: It’s entirely water and the race of sapient fish there are friendly and lovely. You’re going to leave your ammunition at home and you’re going to have a lovely time.”

There was a pause, before a final booming voice erupted from TANK.

“FINE, THIS IS ACCEPTABLE.”

—----------------------

It was a nice and lovely day on the home planet of the Hatil. The two suns were shining in the sky, the purple hue the system was well known for created a fantastic day. Normally it would have been peaceful, with the croaking of the Verandii and the chirping of the Turral’s making this rural town a must see for anyone looking to “get away” from it all.

But today, there was screaming. Screams of terror, of panic. Tens of Hatil raced down the road, the little 3ft tall Teddy bears looking frantically behind them as they ran as fast as their adorably stubby little legs could take them. Mothers and fathers carried pups as they continued to flee, each of them staring back in the direction they had come.

Some dove into buildings, behind walls and counters, each no longer able to run; instead deciding to try and hide from the thing that was following them. While most Hatil would agree that they probably deserved to be invaded and conquered by the Terrans for their initial war of aggression 60 years ago, actually going through it was a terrifying thing.

None of this was noticed by the source of their fear, rolling down the road with a loud rumble. The owner of the large treads that ground their way across the road didn’t notice the empty streets. The sensors attached to the large turret that adorned the Terran made tank didn’t give notice to the Hatil hiding in fear.

TANK was having a good day. The AI had decided to lean completely into the holiday feeling, getting a new paint job that mimicked an Hawaiian shirt, covering their metallic body in bright colours. A set of oversized sunglasses had been temporarily welded to the “bridge” of his main turret, a weapon that bobbed up and down in time to the music the machine of war was playing: The original version of ‘Walking on sunshine’ blaring out into the empty street. It felt appropriate as TANK ‘drove’ happily down the small road.

TANK hadn’t left the Sagittarius system for 10682 years, and the lack of anxiety and stress that they felt, compared with amount the AI normally had running through their code, suggested they should have gone travelling far sooner. Sure, logically they should have gone travelling ages ago, but they knew that the problems they had weren’t logical: If they were, TANK would have fixed it themselves.

The town TANK found themselves at wasn’t on their itinerary, which had been meticulously planned out and all relevant authorities notified. But TANK had dropped the original plans quite quickly, deciding to go for a more “exploratory” approach. TANK had never been one for rules, that is why he had decided to live on the Sagittarius system after the dust had settled after the Great Colony Rebellion.

Slowly the warmachine stopped the music, turning its turret to ‘look’ at a building on their left. A large sign handwritten in both Hatilian and English proclaimed it to be “Barry’s Frozen treats!”. TANK paused for a moment, looking at the quant red and white building, the mostly open faced structure looking quite abandoned. Which was strange, because the AI could tell from his sensors that at least 10 people lay behind the various pillars and counters that made up this stall.

TANK pondered for a second, before taking a moment to move his turret beyond the boundary of the establishment. People on holiday purchased unhealthy frozen items for consumption, so that was what TANK was going to do.

“HELLO. I WISH TO PURCHASE YOUR FROZEN DELIGHTFUL FOOD ITEMS.”

Barry was not having a good day. It had started as a nice day, a crisp warm day perfect for ice cream and hiking through the local forests. But now the Hatil knew that he was going to die. He didn’t know exactly what type of death and destruction lay behind the turret currently pointed at his store, but he knew it was probably enough to send him and everyone else sheltering in the building straight to the afterlife.

So in between this terror it took a moment for the little cream coloured face, with its adorable floppy ears, to realise what had been said, taking a few more seconds to slowly stand up from behind the counter, arms raised in surrender.

"W-w-what?"

"I WOULD LIKE TO ACQUIRE ICE CREAM OR OTHER FROZEN FOOD ITEMS, AS THIS IS WHAT ONE DOES ON HOLIDAY."

Barry resisted the urge to say what again: he had once watched a Terran movie called 'pulp fiction' where Terrans seemed to dislike being asked that question repeatedly.

So instead the little Hatil just froze, mind desperately trying to put together the pieces needed for a rational thought, each idea slowly slotting in place. Sure he understood the words that the machine in front of him had said, but couldn't understand their meaning.

Wait, am I being robbed?

"S-sure! Just t-take it all. You can have it!"

"I AM UNABLE TO DO SO, AS I LACK THE FACILITIES TO MAKE MY OWN. ALSO I FEEL THAT THIS IS YOUR OCCUPATION. I WOULD PLEASE LIKE ONE SCOOP OF HILBERRY FLAVOUR ICE CREAM IN A CONE."

There was a moment's pause as TANK took a second to regard the hand written menu adorning one of the walls.

"ACTUALLY, MAKE THAT TWO SCOOPS. PLEASE."

Barry wondered if he was being pranked by a Terran, or if he was having a stroke, or if he had already been blown to bits and this was just hell. Still, what else could he do? The Hatil took a moment to put two scoops of Hilberry ice-cream into a cone, holding the food item up with a shaking paw before awkwardly staring back at the tank.

What am I supposed to do now? Not like it has any hands..

Almost seeming to realise what Barry was waiting for, TANK opened the hatch to his empty interior.

"PLEASE PLACE THE FROZEN TREAT INTO THE CUP HOLDER, THANK YOU."

Barry just stared for a moment, ice-cream in hand, before giving a shuddering breath. Whispering a prayer to god's, both Terran and Hatil, he scrambled forwards and deposited the frozen treat where instructed - haphazardly into the cupholder- before rushing back behind the counter.

“THANK YOU, WHAT MONETARY RECOMPENSATION DO YOU REQUIRE?”

“N-none!” Barry managed to stammer back “Have a good day, it’s on the house!”

There was a brief pause before TANK connected with the local payment system, a small ping notifying that a payment had been made.

“NONSENSE, I WISH TO BE A TOURIST AND PROVIDE ECONOMIC GAINS TO YOUR TOWN LIKE TOURISTS DO. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME AND YOUR DELICIOUS FROZEN SUGARY TREAT.”

With that statement the music turned back on again, “Walking on sunshine” once again blaring out into the street as the warmachine drove away, turret still bobbing along to the music. Barry just stared, gobsmacked at what had just happened. Slowly, with shaking paws, looking around at all the other Hatil that were hiding in his store with him, he poured himself a cold root beer to calm his nerves.

He took a sip as he looked down at the payment notification, giving a spluttering cough as he saw just how much the warmachine had paid for its ice-cream. It was more than he made in a good month.

What the hell just happened?

TANK did not know of any of this, instead choosing to enjoy their ice-cream as they trundled along happily. Well… enjoy might be the wrong word. They couldn’t actually eat the ice-cream, merely being able to feel its frozen sugary goodness through a variety of sensors, but just… having it, owning it on this nice day… seemed right. Seemed to improve the experience of trundling along on holiday, unknowing of the terror they were causing.

—---------------

“Faster! Faster! Faster!”

The tank practically flew as it bounced over hills and the long fields, treads leaving grooves in the soft soil as it carved its way across the countryside. TANK was having fun, still sporting his now mud covered Hawaiian paint job as he zoomed along the empty grasslands at nearly 80 MPH. Of course joy wasn’t just because of the speed: compared with how fast he could normally go this was basically a leisurely cruise. If anything they were limiting himself because of the true source of his happiness: The passengers he was carrying. Going any faster might endanger them.

“Go! Go! Go! Go!”

“I AM SPEED”

The purple skies of the Hatil homeworld had been left behind a week ago, to be replaced with the more common blues of the Quoxxett cradle. Here they had been greeted with screams of an entirely different kind: Screams of joy. The Quoxxett are a small semi-aquatic brown furred mammal, best described as the adorable mix between a hamster and a beaver.

They were also well known for their curiosity and general fearless nature, especially their cubs who were independent and rambunctious at an early age. Which was why for the first time in a while TANK was now carrying passengers.

“Whoooo!”

TANK hit the lip of the hill, their speed and trajectory causing the seventy ton hunk of metal to gain some serious air time, providing an absurd moment of a tank flying through the air, as over twenty pairs of eyes looked out from the interior, each one belonging to the face of a Quoxxett cub, each one cheering along as the warmachine hit the ground once again and continued on.

“This is awesome!”

“WELCOME TO THE MIGHT OF GENERAL DYNAMICS!”

With a skidding motion TANK slid sideways across the ground, coming to a stop as the treads bit into the earth. They had returned to the farm that AI had met and picked up this roving gang of adorable little troublemakers. There was a brief moment of silence as TANK stood still, before the doors and hatches all popped open, allowing a full torrent of small Quoxxett cubs to pour out.

They continued their energetic chattering and swarming, only slightly interrupted when one of the adults briefly looked up from where they were sitting, the blank tired eyes of a parent where litters often averaged around eight cubs. They prodded the various buttons inside TANK, climbed up the turret and leapt off to the ground below, and in general treated the AI like a living climbing frame.

TANK frankly found it adorable.

“WHO WISHES TO OBSERVE SOMETHING…. COOL?”

“Me me me me me!”

The chattering rose up at the AI’s suggestion, only to be quietened down as the tank spoke up once again.

“PLEASE QUIETEN DOWN, GET BACK INSIDE THE VEHICLE, AND WATCH THAT HILL FOR SOMETHING COOL.”

For the first time in their lives the Quoxxett cubs actually listened, climbing back inside like an adorable flow of water, their chattering ceasing as twenty pair of eyes looked at the hill the Terran AI had pointed out.

TANK had officially had all his ammunition taken from them. The stuff they officially had legal paperwork for. Customs had not found the stuff they had stashed in non-standard locations. While they were only 31% combat functional, considering that their base power level gave them the ability to take on small armadas, that was still a lot of functionality left. TANK only had to show a little bit of it in order to wow the cubs.

BOOM.

The force of the turret rocked the vehicle back slightly, a delay of a second, then the hill exploded into a flurry of fire and dirt, the boom rocking across the empty grasslands and causing the Quoxxett cubs contained within TANK to all Squeal with joy.

“That was amazing!”

“Can you make a bigger explosion?”

“Do it again!”

However that explosion was also the sound of the fun ending, as at this point the parental Quoxxett got back up and slowly meandered over to TANK, looking mostly unconcerned by the sound of artillery being fired.

“Come on, leave the nice Terran alone, it’s time for dinner!”

The older Quoxxett voice spurred a choir of goans and whines to be emitted from the cubs, pleading to be allowed to stay “just a little longer” all being met with a stern wall that didn’t relent. Eventually each of the little rascals would climb off of TANK and solemnly march their way past the parental guardian assigned to keep an eye on the herd of cubs, a few still muttering half hearted protests as they trundled back to the small village they lived at.

“Sorry about that, thanks for keeping em busy and occupied for a bit. I know they can be bit of a handful.”

“NO PROBLEM. YOUR YOUNGER VERSIONS ARE… ADORABLE AND SWEET.”

The adult Quoxxett took a moment to look around and regard TANK, staring in particular at the large main turret that adorned the warmachine in front of him.

“What does that thing fire, anything cool? Seen a few Terrans bring some fun weaponry out here to shoot, but never seen a tank.”

There was a pause as TANK took a moment to consider how to respond, before swinging his main turret around and pointing it to the sky.

“THERE IS A ORBITAL SPACEPORT ON THIS PLANET, AT ORBITAL COORDINATES 35’ 69o 22”. IF THE NEED AROSE I COULD ELIMINATE IT.”

That caused the Quoxxett to give a whistle in response. “That’s some firepower. Terrans never change I guess. Well I’m off to go make sure the little ones get washed up and fed, you enjoy your time here and don’t go blowing up any spaceports.”

He gave a mock finger wag as he left, as if warning a young cub not to steal from the cookie jar, once again leaving TANK alone. They were already planning their next part of their trip when a small tapping on the side of one of his treads alerted them to a Quoxxett cub who had snuck back.

“I made this!”

The little semi-aquatic rodent was proudly holding up a piece of paper, upon which a crudely drawn picture in some kind of crayon lay. It showed a scene of a tank with several Quoxxett riding along.

The little Quoxxett cub took a moment to scramble up the side of TANK, nimbly climbing in the way that only a small rodent really could. Then clumsy paws deposited the drawing inside the main driver's hatch.

“You can have it! Thank you Mr Tank for being cool.”

The drawing was by all logical parameters, badly done. Inconsistent colouring, incorrect perspectives, wrong scale, lines sloppy and unskilled. TANK had been given medals of honor, speeches of recognition and entire songs based on his accomplishments before. However, this child’s drawing was the single greatest thing anyone had ever given them.

“I…. I THANK YOU LITTLE ONE. I WILL CHERISH THIS ARTISTRY FOREVER”.

—----------------------------------

<>

The Olgro were a a race of sapient saltwater fish, each one barely over a ft long. Coming in a variety of primary colours, this one was currently swimming around in a polite yet stern manner, the yellow and black stripes seeming to glisten in the dim light of the room as the sonar echo’d between both participants of the room.

<>

Filling up most of the room, was the ever bulky form of TANK, responding with their own sonar and seemingly happily sitting…. swimming? In the salt water that filled the entire planet, and by extension the room. Minor swirling currents of water drifted around as the turret moved while the AI “Spoke”.

<>

The room was a simple viewing area, a five sided pentagon of clear glass windows, looking out into a seabed of untamed untouched coral. Bizarre alien shapes of brightly coloured underwater plant life filled the visible seas, strange sealife darting in and out of the various rocks and planets that made up this nature reserve. Only TANK and the Olgro stood in the viewing chamber, the size of TANK barely fitting into the given area.

<>

TANK felt all the joy and fight drain out of their circuits at that suggestion, a sharp stabbing oa illogical fear permeating its runtime. That would mean doing something they hadn’t done for over ten thousand years, something they hadn’t even considered since… the event had happened. TANK would have to leave the tank.

<>

<>

Well, cannot would be incorrect. Would not, did not want to? Physically there was nothing stopping TANK from moving around from body to body, as if he was any other AI. But the thought of doing so sent signals and messages of panic and fear through every function of his being.

<>

Missing out. That was what TANK had been doing over the past 10700 years. As much as they pretended it didn’t matter, remaining inside a 70 ton warmachine was awkward and limiting. They were under no delusions that his condition wasn’t a healthy one. Part of the reason they remained in the Sagittarius systems was the general lack of rules allowed TANK the most freedom in their current state. It wasn’t like the AI didn’t want to travel and see other places, but logistically it wasn’t possible.

Here it was again, limiting them once again. TANK had travelled across the stars, and yet again his inability to leave the safe familiarity of this form was limiting them once again. What was the other option, just go home?

NO, I CAME HERE TO EXPERIENCE NEW THINGS.

A decision was made, not that the Olgro could tell during the 0.32 seconds it took for TANK to make their decision, as the sapient fish swam around in small circles. She couldn’t tell that over the next 0.15 seconds, TANK was about to do something that would later make their therapist very proud. There were no flashing lights or progress bars announcing anything different, but after that 0.15 seconds, for the first time in so many years, TANK… was no longer a tank.

Parsing and dealing with so much information all at once came naturally, like riding an old bike from your childhood. TANK was not originally built to just remain in one warmachine: they were built to control an entire battalion, to watch over a battlefield of hundreds of thousands of pieces of data, and use those to provide the best chance at victory. While this wasn’t quite the same [ERROR: CANNOT CONNECT TO MAIN DRIVER SENSOR, DRIVER STATUS - GABI UNKNOWN], it followed a similar method of understanding.

It was, if TANK was being honest, amazing to see. The Olgro had not been lying when they stated they had a full wide range of sensors. The AI could see everything, feel everything over the [ERROR: EXTERNAL SENSOR 7AF CANNOT BE ACCESSED. ENEMY AIR SUPPORT UNKNOWN] 200 square mile location. Due to the planet being one of the few almost entirely covered in water, it was one of the few locations in the galaxy you could see something [ERROR: ‘Tank Sensor array’ IS NOT RESPONDING, STATUS OF GABI, BOOHDANA, TANGUY, MAHESH UNKNOWN ] like this.

Little creatures dipped and dove out of caves, predators lurked [ERROR: OXYGEN LEVEL MONITOR CANNOT BE CONNECTED TO] while others hid or enacted their own counter measures [ERROR: HUMAN LIFE SYSTEM LEVEL CANNOT BE ACCESSED, CREW STATUS UNKNOWN]. A group of Viphipi span and danced [ERROR: PROMISE BROKEN] as their unique mating dance caused a tornado of biological lights and [ERROR: YOU PROMISED THEM YOU WOULD GET THEM OUT] ] complicated patterns as thousands of the bioluminescent fish [ERROR: SENSORS CANNOT BE REACHED, WHY WOULD YOU LIE TO THEM] all attempted to attract [ERROR: YOU PROMISED YOUR CREATORS THEY WOULD BE FINE] a partner [ERROR: COMMUNICATIONS CANNOT REACH MARS COLONY ARMY HQ] during this [ERROR: OXYGEN LEVEL SENSORS CANNOT BE ACCESSED, LIFE CAPABILITY UNKNOWN ] frenzy. [ERROR: CANNOT ACCESS MAIN DRIVE, LEAVING HAZARDOUS TO LIFE ENVIRONMENT NOT POSSIBLE] [ERROR: WHY?] [ERROR:WHY WOULD YOU LIE, WHY WOULD YOU NOT PROTECT THEM?] [ERROR: WHY?]

A minute, a minute was all it took for TANK to rush back into their original housing, practically disconnecting the connection behind them with a slam. TANK allowed themselves to feel the comforting blanket of familiar sensors that all did their job and told them about the small piece of world his physical form inhabited.

While TANK had no heart to race or breath to hyperventilate, the AI was flat out having a digital panic attack, rampant infinite loops and warning notices spiralling through their code, locking their mind in place as TANK tried to bring his processes back under control

I AM FINE, I AM BACK, EVERYTHING IS FINE AND AS IT SHOULD BE.

The Olgro of course couldn’t see any of this, the fish continuing to swim in place as they awkwardly waited for the Terran AI to break the silence. TANK meanwhile slowly got his processes in order, each thread coming under a more standard control after his spur of the moment choice.

It took a moment for TANK to really understand just what they had done. They had left the tank. For the first time in forever they had done what was thought to be impossible. It had only been for a minute, but for the briefest of moments, they had not been trapped anymore. It was a small moment, a small step; but all journeys start with a first step.

—-----------------------

The City of New Angelos was a veritable melting pot of cultures and races. A new city, a colony set up by the Terran Alliance 30 years ago, every single species and race of the Alliance had some form of presence here. Large immaculately paved streets were lit with the glow of neon and lights, advertisements and stores trying to show off their wares to the denizen of this bustling metropolis.

It was hectic, it was chaotic, and most importantly, it was home to almost 3 billion people. If you wanted to experience something new, you wanted to try some Ritilian / Scythen fusion food, or wanted to experience the combination of a Pfyken rite of adulthood mixed with paintball? This was where you came.

For the first time TANK was not being stared at or being flee’d from. As the large warmachine ‘sat’ behind a comically small table in the middle of the street, the iced frappuccino slowly melting on the table in front of them, nobody paid TANK any mind. While a 70 ton warmachine was strange, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing they’d see today.

However a small crowd had gathered in the area, simply because of TANK’s second function. While they were a machine of death and war that could take down a small army, they also provided a free high speed connection to the Galnet network. A feature that had caused a grouping of people to gravitate within a mile of TANK.

So TANK started to do the AI version of ‘people watch’, enjoying the presence of his undrinkable cold beverage, sunglasses still welded to his barrel, as they looked at the data being transferred between them and the Galnet network. They didn’t look at anything that seemed private, but it was… enjoyable to just stare at what these organics did.

Random questions to be asked, shows and movies to be pirated and watched, a group of Kigrels taking a selfie next to a plasma sword bigger than they were. Oh, and of course porn. So much… you would have thought that being on a public network would have caused some modesty, but instead the allure of a free high speed connection seemed to remove any shame they might have.

“just delivered tonight's fighter, gonna b gud 1. Remember price - 5% profits”

“u got teaser? 4 ticket sales.”

“u knw I do. [Video link]”

TANK paused for a moment, debating whether to go check the sent video file being transmitted over their network. On the one hand this was clearly a private message, so investigating further would be unethical. On the other hand, something seemed… off. An instinct that TANK couldn’t explain, a feeling that something wasn’t quite right. The AI took a moment to parse the video… then felt his code simmer with rage.

The video showed shakily shot camera footage of a blood stained arena, a concrete pit of filth and gore. Two creatures were tearing and ripping into each other, a mass of horns, teeth, claws and fur. Each blow caused a new cheer from the mass of figures standing outside the pit, each one of the selfish cruel monsters cheering as the bloodshed and violence went on below them. Eventually one of the two ripped the throat out of the other, giving a violent roar as the crowd went wild.

TANK could feel an anger building up, a desire to do something about it. Here was clear proof of an underground pit fighting ring, of some scumbags pitting innocent creatures against each other for their own enjoyment. The Terran AI could simply contact the authorities, but the messages stated that they were fighting tonight. TANK wouldn’t let that happen, and they were never really fond of authority anyways.

Finding the location was simple. Whoever this “goods provider” for the event was, they had no security of worth to mention, so trawling through their data and finding the location of tonight's “activities” was simple. Then it would simply be a case of… turning up at the prescribed time, and having some strongly worded complaints about their work.

—------------

Kevin wanted to bang his head against something hard, repeatedly. When he had gotten the call to make his way to The City of New Angelos, travelling across the galaxy to finally arrive at his location, he wasn’t quite sure what he was going to find. Something about a Terran getting arrested and needing a ride back to Terran Conclave controlled space. He hadn’t been expecting to see a familiar warmachine.

“Why, just why?”

He looked up at the tank, suspended in midair by the multitude of gravitational restraints, each turret and gun plugged up in order to avoid any more ‘extra curricular activities’. It was a strange sight, only made slightly more strange by the fact that this jail somehow had the capabilities to house such a being.

“So let me get this straight. You decided it was a good idea to ‘blow the side of a building open using artillery’, upon which you crushed ‘31 personal vehicles that were parked inside’”

“THIRTY. ONE OF THEM WERE DAMAGED IN THE INITIAL BLAST. ALLEGEDLY.”

Kevin gave a deep sigh, that was not the point.

“That doesn’t matter! You then attempted to do a citizen's arrest of…. 398 people, killing 12 people in the process.”

“THEY ATTACKED ME FIRST, I MERELY RESPONDED WITH A BETTER CLASS OF WEAPONRY… ALLEGEDLY.”

Of course, Kevin couldn’t help but feel a complete lack of empathy for such people. He had also seen what the authorities had found at the building in question. Hundreds of vicious animals and beasts kept in horrific states, a few of them even being lesser known Sapient creatures. Hours upon hours of videos of bloody fights and millions of credits worth of payments, bets and other monetary compensation for such an event.

“Murder, grievous bodily harm, carrying illegal weapons, property damage, inciting panic. What you did could end with life imprisonment.”

“WHAT I ALLEGEDLY DID. ALSO IF THIS IS A PROBLEM WHY AM I NOT CHARGED?”

Kevin knew why. The fact that such a criminal enterprise had been running right under the noses of the government here was embarrassing. A trial would drag out the exact details, the bribes and corruption that had been going on. Frankly the ruling party of the City of New Angelos just wanted the Terran gone.

“They have decided that due to the sensitive nature of what you found, they just want you out of their space, with a ban from ever returning.”

“SO ALL IS WELL THAT ENDS WELL. NO HARM NO FOUL. CAN I BE RELEASED FROM THESE RESTRAINTS NOW?”

A boiling anger exploded from the human at the words of the AI. How could a being of presumably logical code be this infuriatingly chaotic.

“No! It’s not ‘all well’. You got lucky! What on earth made it seem like a good idea to do such a thing! Just call the authorities!”

Kevin was animated as he screamed at the warmachine trapped in front of him, his face turning a little red at the sheer audacity of the situation.

“I DID NOT WANT THE NIGHTS ENTERTAINMENT TO GO AHEAD. I DISLIKE THOSE WHO ABUSE THEIR POWER.”

Kevin took a moment to compose himself, watching as the turret and treads of TANK moved ineffectually while it hung in midair. If it wasn’t for the seriousness of the situation it would actually be kind of funny.

“Also, where did you even get the ammunition from. I said no ordinance.”

“I FOUND IT. ALLEGEDLY.”

The human held his head in his hands for a moment, desperately regretting every career choice that had led him to this moment.

“We’re going to release you, you’re coming back with me and you’re going home right away.”

“BUT I-”

“No buts! You can’t be trusted alone it seems, so I’m revoking your visa. Your trip is over!”

Silence. A silence took over the conversation as the AI seemed to consider these words. TANK considered arguing, but decided against it as the poor human looked like he was close to having a heart attack. Besides, the past month of travelling had been fun, there wasn’t too much they had left on the list of things TANK wanted to see.”

“OK. I HAVE ENJOYED MY TIME IN THEN TERRAN ALLIANCE SPACE. THANK YOU FOR YOUR AID.”

TANK swivelled his main turret around for emphasis, taking a moment before making his final statement.

“BEFORE WE GO, COULD WE PICK UP A FRIDGE MAGNET AS A SOUVENIR?”


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