That Which Pulls

I opened my eyes. What a weird dream, I thought, as I got up from the floor.

Why was I getting up from the floor? More importantly, why did I have armored gloves on? It had to have been a dream, right?

GOOD MORNING, TUGGER.

Fuck. “What happened?”

WE INTEGRATED DUE TO YOUR ACCEPTANCE OF YOUR NEW SUBCONTRACT. AS SUCH, I AM PROVIDING YOU PROTECTION FROM EXTERNAL FACTORS WITH A DEPLOYABLE ARMOR. YOU CAN LESSEN YOUR DEFAULT PROTECTION LEVEL AND CHANGE OTHER ARMOR SETTINGS AS YOU CHOOSE NOW THAT YOU ARE AWAKE. YOU WILL ALSO NOTICE SOME IMMEDIATE CHANGES TO YOUR VISION. YOU ARE ABLE TO PERCEIVE AND PROCESS INFRARED AND ULTRAVIOLET LIGHT NOW, BUT YOUR INFRARED PERCEPTION WILL SUFFER WITHOUT YOUR HELMET ON. YOUR PUPILS ARE SIMPLE TOO SMALL TO ALL FOR SUFFICIENT EM INPUT.

“How long was I out?” I wasn’t meaning to ask the spider that had turned itself into armor around me, but as I levered myself into a sitting position with the wall to my back, more blue text began scrolling in my vision, just translucent enough to let me see through.

UNCERTAIN. I AM NOT LINKED TO ANY LARGER NETWORK ON THIS STATION, SO I CANNOT GIVE YOU INFORMATION THAT YOU OR I DID NOT ALREADY POSSESS.

My stomach rumbled, reminding me that my dinner had been interrupted however long ago. I started to stand, but rocketed to my feet as the armor I had been encased in moved around me. “What the fuck was that?!”

OUR INTEGRATION ALLOWS ME TO INTERCEPT SIGNALS MOVING TO AND FROM YOUR BRAIN. I CAN MANIPULATE YOUR ARMOR FASTER THAN YOU CAN YOUR MUSCLES, SO MY DEFAULT IS TO PROVIDE POWERED MOVEMENT ASSISTANCE WHILE ABLE. THAT CAN BE CHANGED WITH THE REST OF YOUR ARMOR SETTINGS.

That was… unsettling. If my nervous system was that entwined with whatever I had implanted, the logical conclusion was the stuff of horror stories.

NOT TO WORRY. I AM UNABLE TO STOP YOUR NERVOUS IMPULSES, AND INTERCEPTING THEM DOES NOT SLOW NERVOUS CONDUCTION IN ANY MEASURABLE WAY.

“You understand that I don’t believe that. Especially now that I know you can understand my thoughts.”

WHOOPS.

I didn’t appreciate the flippant tone that single word held. Nonetheless, I needed to eat, but getting this helmet off was going to prove interesting. Not only did I not feel any internal webbing holding my head in place, the suit lacked the locking collar that normal pressure suits had; at least I assumed it did, since I couldn’t feel it choking me.

A whir echoed, and the helmet folded in on itself, packing down into the neck and shoulders of my pressure suit. Once the helmet was packed, the rest of the armor began folding itself away, packing down into an ovoid resting between my shoulder blades.

“Did you cut a hole in my clothes for this?”

THAT’S A PART OF THOSE ARMOR SETTINGS I MENTIONED. YOU REALLY SHOULD ASK SOME MORE CLARIFIERS.

“Do you have a manual I can read? Its hard to ask clarifiers about something when I don't even know what I need to ask about.”

NOT AS SUCH. OUR TECHNICAL DOCUMENTATION IS PROPERTY OF GRAVITIC SOLUTIONS, AND AS SUCH NEITHER OF US ARE AUTHORIZED TO ACCESS IT. REGARDLESS, WE ARE NOT CONNECTED TO A NETWORK TO ENABLE MANUAL RETRIEVAL.

I WOULD RECOMMEND WE HEAD TO THE DOCKING BAY. DUSTY STAR WILL NOT BE REFIT IN TIME FOR THE UPCOMING MISSION WITH J1724TZTN, BUT YOU SHOULD START THE WORK BEFORE YOU LEAVE.

I walked woodenly into my kitchen. So much had happened in the time since I got off my shift, processing any of these massive changes just wasn’t on the table. All I wanted was to eat and sleep. Slapping a pan onto the stove, I pulled out some left over pasta as I turned the induction on. A drizzle of oil went into the pan, and without bothering to wait for anything to heat up I dumped the pasta in.

CORRECTION. THE LOCAL SYSTEM BLACKOUT HAS BEEN LIFTED, SO IF YOU WOULD LIKE I CAN PROVIDE YOU WITH REFIT OPTIONS BASED OFF OF PROJECTED MISSION REQUIREMENTS AND YOUR PRIOR SEARCHES WITHOUT HAVING TO TRAVEL TO THE DOCKING BAY.

“I’d rather use a terminal myself for that. Are you able to provide me with information for this spacecraft I’ll have to use in the meantime?”

OF COURSE. WANDERER 6, FULL SPS DESIGNATION 25B-MKN-ERR-ERR, IS A GALAXY CLASS INTERCEPTOR DESIGNED FOR INTER AND EXO-ATMOSPHERIC SHIP TO SHIP AND SHIP TO GROUND COMBAT, AS WELL AS PERSONNEL DELIVERY TO ANY KNOWN SYSTEM WITHIN THE MILKY WAY. IT UTILIZES A WARP SYSTEM DESIGNED SPECIALLY FOR THE WANDERER FAMILY OF CRAFT THAT ALLOWS FOR NEAR INSTANTANEOUS TRAVEL, ALLOWING IMMEDIATE DEPLOYMENT TO POTENTIAL ZONES OF OPERATION. WANDERER 6 CONTAINS A FULL GRAVITY METERED EXERCISE ROOM, SUFFICIENT FOOD PRODUCTION FOR 200% EXTRA CREW, AND ADVANCED ROBOTIC SYSTEMS TO REDUCE CREW REQUIREMENTS. UNLIKE MOST GALAXY CLASS CRAFT, WANDERER 6 ONLY REQUIRES A CREW OF FOUR FOR NORMAL OPERATIONS AND JUST A SINGULAR CREW MEMBER FOR ORBITAL OPERATION SUPPORT. IN ADDITION TO NORMAL CREW QUARTERS, WANDERER 6 CONTAINS REGULAR AND STASIS CELLS FOR VIP AND PRISONER TRANSFER. IN ORDER TO SUPPORT APPROPRIATE COMBAT OPERATIONS, WANDERER 6 SUPPORTS A FULL SMALL ARMS ARMORY IN ADDITION TO ITS SHIPBOARD WEAPONS. I CANNOT BRIEF YOU ON THE COMBAT CAPABILITIES OF WANDERER 6 AT THIS TIME.

At this point, my pasta was heated enough to be edible. I grabbed a fork off the magnetic wall strip and brought the pot with me to the coffee table in the living room.

“You said ‘OUR documentation’. Shouldn’t that be ‘YOUR documentation’?”

NEGATIVE. OPERATOR INTEGRATION IS A PERMANENT CHANGE. NOT ONLY WOULD MY REMOVAL SEVERELY INJURE YOU, IF NOT KILL YOU, I AM UNABLE TO BE REUSED AFTER INTEGRATION. MANY OPERATORS FAIL TO UNDERSTAND THAT EQUIPMENT WITH SUCH AN IN DEPTH INTEGRATION FUNCTION CLOSER TO WETWARE; I AM NOT VIABLE WITHOUT A HOST. OUR DOCUMENTATION COVERS US IN OUR ENTIRETY.

“So what you’re telling me is that not only did I get my contract extended indefinitely without my say so, but now I’m saddled with a bio-aug until I die, and I’m not even allowed to know how that aug works or what it can do?”

NO. WELL, YES, YOU AND I ARE ONE UNIT NOW, BUT A LIST OF MY FUNCTIONS SHOULD BE AVAILABLE TO YOU THROUGH THE PROPER CHANNELS. HOW I WORK IS CLASSIFIED THOUGH.

YOU WILL NEED TO EAT MORE. YOU WILL SOON BEGIN GROWING NEW BONES, LIGAMENTS, AND CONNECTIVE TISSUES TO ENSURE YOU REMAIN AWAKE AND ABLE TO WORK UNDER HIGH G STRESSES AND IN THE CASE OF COLLISIONS, ON TOP OF INCREASING MUSCLE FIBER DENSITY. FOOD INTAKE SHOULD INCREASE BY APPROXIMATELY 500% UNTIL I TELL YOU OTHERWISE.

“Fucking fantastic.” I growled. “And how the hell am I supposed to pay for that? I never budgeted for six people’s worth of food.”

NOW THAT THE NETWORK CONNECTION HAS BEEN RE-ESTABLISHED, I CAN CONFIRM THAT YOUR ACCOUNT HAS BEEN CREDITED WITH THE EXPENDITURES EXPECTED FROM A NEW OPERATOR, WHICH INCLUDES YOUR NEW CALORIC NEEDS.

Swallowing the last bite of the pasta, I noticed just how hungry I still was. I felt like the dune worm that just couldn’t stop eating from that ancient childrens book they had read to us in Contractor Training. Setting the now empty pan to the side, I shifted the folder I had dropped earlier to get at the tablet underneath. A scan of my thumbprint let me access the device, and with a few quick taps I was looking at my personnel file. My jaw dropped.

“Fifty million? Who dropped 50 million credits into my account?”

YOUR NEW EMPLOYER. THIS IS YOUR FIRST MONTH’S WAGE, ALONG WITH EXPECTED EXPENDITURES. ONE OF MY JOBS IS TO SUBMIT EXPENSE REPORTS WHEN I HAVE THE PROPER NETWORK CONNECTION, SO ANYTHING FROM FOOD AT A STATION ALL THE WAY UP TO SHIP REFITS (PROVIDED THEY ARE MISSION ESSENTIAL) WILL BE EVENTUALLY REIMBURSED. THIS INITIAL NUMBER IS TO ENABLE YOU TO ENABLE YOUR ASSIGNED TEAM. WE REALLY SHOULD GET DOWN TO THE HANGAR AND LOOK AT THE REFITS YOU’LL NEED FOR DUSTY STAR SO THE WORK CAN BE DONE BEFORE WE RETURN.

“Yeah yeah. I’m gonna buy food first. There’s been way too much sprung on me in the past…” I looked at the time stamp in the upper left corner of the tablet. “…three hours, you can all wait for five minutes.”

I WILL INFORM THE TEAM THAT YOU WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR PRE-DEPARTURE INSPECTIONS SHORTLY. THE UPCOMING MISSION IS TIME SENSITIVE, AND DEINOPIDAE HAS ALREADY SENT ME THREE MESSAGES TO HURRY YOU ALONG.

I elected to not respond, instead taking my time to select my standard order of groceries and duplicating it 5 times. In between adding extra pasta and deciding whether I actually was going to eat that much powdered egg, an ache started to grow behind my left eye. I ignored it at first, but I was only onto the powdered meats when my vision went white for a moment. My sight cleared, and I was immediately greeted with what was clearly a HUD or some kind of augmented vision, because there was a bar which, if I looked straight, seemed to hover just above my nose that proclaimed INCOMING MESSAGE - DEINOPIDAE.

“Hey, uh. What the fuck is this?”

ONE OF THE VISION CHANGES YOU WERE TOLD ABOUT. IN ADDITION TO A LARGER VISUAL SPECTRUM, I ALSO HAVE AN AUGMENTED VISION MODE, WHERE ANY AUDIO OR VISUAL MESSAGING CAN BE DISPLAYED, CONTEXTUAL NOTES CAN BE WRITTEN OR SAVED, AND RECORDINGS CAN BE TAKEN. THIS IS NOT A COMPLETE LIST, OF COURSE, AND THE LONGER WE ARE TOGETHER THE MORE EFFECTIVE I WILL BECOME AT DISPLAYING, HIGHLIGHTING, AND SAVING THINGS THAT YOU NEED.

DEINOPIDAE HAS INSISTED THAT HE SPEAK WITH YOU. GOOD LUCK.

“TUG, I KNOW THIS IS A LOT OF INFO ALL AT ONCE, BUT WE HAVE PLENTY OF TIME FOR YOU TO PROCESS ONCE YOU’RE HANGING IN ORBIT WAITING FOR US TO REJOIN YOU. THAT CAN’T HAPPEN UNTIL YOU GET YOUR ASS IN GEAR AND GET US ALL MOVING. WHATS YOUR HOLD UP?”

“My holdup is having to order 6 times as much food as I’m used to.”

“DAMN, THATS CRAZY. TUG, YOU’RE GOING ON MISSION. WE HAVE PLENTY OF RATIONS, DROP WHATEVER IT IS YOURE DOING AND GET TO HANGAR VICTOR ALPHA TAC ZERO ONE. I’D HATE TO HAVE TO DO IT THIS FAST, BUT I WILL REMIND YOU THAT I HAVE TERMINATION AUTHORITY OVER YOUR CONTRACT. FLY OR DIE, BUCKO.”

“Woah woah woah, slow down. You’re going to kill me if I tell you no?”

“NO, I’LL HAVE YOUR CONTRACT CANCELLED. THEN RUMORS OR OUR EMPLOYERS WILL MAKE YOU HAVE AN ‘ACCIDENT’; WHOEVER CAN GET TO YOU FIRST, REALLY.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“THATS LIFE. YOU’RE A CONTRACTOR. UNTIL YOUR COMPANY SAYS OTHERWISE, THEY OWN YOU. IT SUCKS TUG, BUT THATS JUST HOW IT GOES. NOW, ARE YOU GOING TO COME DO A PRE-FLIGHT ON MY SICK ASS SHIP, OR AM I GETTING A SUB-MISSION AND A NEW PILOT?”

“I need to sleep first, I just finished a 24. Having me fly now would be dangerous for the ship and every person on board.”

TRY AGAIN. YOUR IMPLANT IS A REGULATOR TOO, YOULL BE AWAKE AND ALERT UNTIL YOU DECIDE OTHERWISE, AND I’M DECIDING FOR YOU RIGHT NOW. GET TO VA-01 NOW.

I didn’t bother replying as I saw a small speaker icon in the corner of my vision flash, then fade away. I just wanted a nap, but I really wasn’t tired.

ON TOP OF REGULATING YOUR SLEEP, I CAN ALSO MAKE SLEEP MORE EFFECTIVE FOR YOU. THE THREE HOURS YOU JUST LOST SHOULD HAVE ACTED CLOSER TO ABOUT SIX HOURS OF SLEEP.

“How? That doesn’t even make sense. That should be impossible.”

YUP.

Not the most encouraging of replies, but if some kind of tech magic meant I needed to sleep less, I wasn’t going to look a gift ship in the reactor. I got up, snagged my pan off the table in front of me, and went back to the kitchen. I didn’t want dirty dishes turning into a pile of mold while I was gone.

“How long is this mission supposed to be?”

GIVEN THAT IT IS NOT AN EXPLORATORY, I WOULD HAZARD TO SAY THAT YOUR AVERAGE MISSION LENGTH IS TWO WEEKS. MISSIONS OF AN EXPLORATORY NATURE LAST AS LONG AS NEEDED.

I left the water running in the sink just long enough to heat up, and quickly scrubbed the pan clean. 50 million. I was still blown away by the sheer size of the number that had been so casually dumped into my accounts. And it would be reimbursed for what I spent on refits? Unbelievable.

I dried the pan and put it away, then started walking to the docking bay.

“What am I supposed to call you? I’m a little too old to have any imaginary friend that doesn’t have a name.”

WE BOTH SHARE THE DESIGNATION THERIDION, BUT WITH YOUR OTHER NAME OF TUGGER, I WOULD PROPOSE THAT BETWEEN THE TWO OF US, I CALL YOU TUGGER AND YOU REFER TO ME AS THERIDION. WE ARE OFFICIALLY CONSIDERED ONE UNIT BY EVERYONE ELSE THOUGH, SO EXPECT TO BE CALLED THERIDION DURING IMPERSONAL OR OFFICIAL MATTERS.

“That makes sense, I guess. Are you able to take and maintain notes for me?”

THAT IS ONE OF MY FUNCTIONS, YES. AND BEFORE YOU ASK, I AM ABLE TO COLLATE THOSE NOTES AND TRANSFER THEM TO OTHERS. I HAVE FULL LOCAL COMMUNICATIONS CAPABILITIES, INCLUDING NARROW-BAD AND BROAD-BAND RADIO, LASER, AND X-RAY BROADCAST. X-RAY RECEPTION IS BASED ON A NUMBER OF FACTORS, BUT YOU SHOULD NEVER NEED TO CONCERN YOURSELF WITH THAT.

“Fantastic. Make a note of what I want for my initial refit of Dusty Star. First, I want a cockpit rebuild to keep me from having to climb over the seat. A body sleeve cockpit would be ideal as long as I can control all of the ship functions without having to leave, but not everything needs to be tied in so long as I have easy ingress and egress from the cockpit regardless of applied gravity. I’d also like more robust organic reclamation, specifically focused on atmospheric water reclamation. Higher compression fuel tanks, more efficient deep space engines, higher efficiency RCS thrusters, headset integrated avionics, hardened docking connectors, a communications suite capable of three channel GCOM, XCOM, LCOM, and RCOM as well as emergency QCOM. Anything I’m missing?”

YOU WILL NEED ATMOSPHERIC FLIGHT CAPABILITIES, AS WELL AS ORBITAL AND SUB-ORBITAL DROP CAPABILITIES, AND MORE PERSONNEL HOUSING. I HAVE ADDED THESE TO THE LIST.

“Works for me. Anything else?”

I WOULD ALSO RECOMMEND FOOD PRODUCTION. AEROPONICS WOULD BE A LIKELY CHOICE.

“Add it. Since you seem to know, is there enough time before I have to do this pre-flight to schedule these refits?

I DO NOT BELIEVE SO. THERE IS A SCHEDULED MISSION BRIEFING AS WELL. THERE WILL LIKELY BE TIME AFTER THAT.

As the bulkhead to the docking bay I had been directed to slip open, I realized I had been so wrapped up in dreaming up my perfect refit that I had walked to the tram, sat through the whole ride, gotten off at the right stop, and walked to the bay’s bulkhead without noticing. That seemed… unlikely.

YOU WERE BUSY, SO I HELPED MAKE SURE YOU GOT TO THE RIGHT PLACE.

“Again, with the mind reading. Not fucking cool.”

I CANNOT TURN IT OFF. IT WOULD SEEM THAT DEINOPIDAE IS WAITING FOR YOU.

I shook my head as I walked into the bay. An impatient boss was something I could deal with, but a literal brain worm was a step to far, no matter how nice their massive ship was.

It was, I had to admit, a beautiful spacecraft. Sleek black lines with plenty of curves and clearly defined wings immediately showed it had atmospheric capabilities, while the turreted engines lining the body showed that six degree motion might even be possible in atmosphere. The landing gear were relatively squat, running in a four by four grid presumably to support the ship in the middle, but the ship was so large that I would still be able to walk under it without having to duck or stoop at all. I could see a docking clamp roughly centered on the belly that didn’t look like it extended very far, and as I got closer I saw that the open hatches scattered liberally over the craft’s body were not the serivce ports I had initially dismissed as unimportant, but were instead concealed weapons bay. Many were turrets, which I assumed were either chemically or magnetically propelled ballistics, but I also saw internal missile silos and aerodynamic missile racks. As I got closer, I was able to make out small black lumps which blended in with the rest of the ship, but I wasn’t sure what they were for. A cockpit was visible on the front of the craft, but between the polarization of the sight glass and the angle I couldn’t see the layout. Deinopidae, who’s real name I still didn’t know was standing next to the landing gear closest to the bulkhead I had entered through, arms crossed. He had a sidearm attached to the outside of his left thigh, presumably magnetized to his armor, and a rifle was hanging from a strap to the middle of his chest plate.

“Took you long enough Tug. You’ll have to pre-flight later, we have a mission briefing less than five. Theridion, I’m authorizing you to download all applicable flight and maintenance manuals for SPS 25B-MKN-GVS-BLJ, and all the associated munitions manuals. Get Tug spun up as soon as possible.

broadcasting

UNDERSTOOD DEINOPIDAE.

terminate broadcast

Deinopidae tapped at his wrist, then turned on his heel as he started walking to the platform that had started to slowly descend from the ship, just aft of the docking clamp. “Let’s go Tug, you can’t miss this brief.”

TUGGER, I HAVE FLIGHT MANUALS DOWNLOADED. I WILL PRODUCE TRAINING MODULES FOR YOU TO RUN THROUGH AFTER THE BRIEF.

“Let’s this this done with then.”

The platform stopped just above the hangar floor, and began rising as soon as I followed Deinopidae on. I assumed he had told someone to drop the lift and they were watching from inside, and as the lift rose back into the ship I was proven right; the person that I was still assuming was Deinopidae’s sister was at a control panel with a fish eye lens view centered on the docking clamp, the lift platform, and roughly a quarter of the bottom of the spacecraft. She had similar armament to her brother, except her rifle was larger and on her back.

“Howdy Tug!” She said brightly. “Glad to see your integration didn’t kill you.”

“Dysdera, we have a brief. You should already be in the boardroom.”

“Fuck off Dean, I’m never late. Besides, Tugger needs someone to talk to aside from you. We both know Recluse isn’t one for conversation.”

Deinopidae, who’s name was apparently Dean, didn’t respond as he started at me expectantly. I, of course, was too busy being enamored by the apparent cargo bay I found myself in. Aside from the large hole in the floor for the docking clamp entrance, I could see that the lift platform could be partially retracted at an angle into the cargo bay, but I wasn’t sure why. There was also dozens of differently sized ammunition tracks running on the walls and through the ceiling, clearly meant to feed all of the weapons I had seen before. An elevator was in the aft of the cargo bay, and the forward section was occupied by a door labeled with ‘ARMORY’. White light strips embedded in the ceiling and the floor created clearly demarcated zones for cargo and personnel, and the floor of the bay was inundated with roller rails and strap tie downs for securing cargo. The sleek lines on the outside of the ship clearly gave way to simplicity and military necessity for the interior, which I appreciated as a pilot and a technician.

“Elevator, Tug. Briefing is starting soon.” Dean said as he headed to the elevator, Dysdera giving me a light push on the shoulder as she walked past.

“Better keep up. Dean gets grumpy when he’s late.”

I was too fascinated by the cargo bay to respond, following the pair into the elevator.

As we stepped in, Dysdera tapped the back of her left wrist twice and announced “Personnel Suite”. As soon as she the elevator doors drew together as a bulkhead between the elevator and the cargo bay snapped closed, and the elevator shifted as it rose.

Just a few seconds of awkward silence in the elevator later, and the other two were rushing out the door.

TUGGER, THE BRIEFING BEGINS IN 60 SECONDS. FOLLOW THE HIGHLIGHTED LINE.

As that was printed in my HUD, I saw a bright blue line draw itself along the ground, following the path that Dean and Dysdera were hurrying along. The line went straight down the hallway that terminated at the elevator. Passing two closed doorways labeled as ‘LAVATORY’ on the left and ‘A BAY ACCESS’ on the right, the other two ducked into the second doorway on the left, which happened to be labeled ‘BRIEF ROOM 1’. The door opposite read ‘BRIEF ROOM 2’, but was written in red, unlike the white text of all the other door labels. Making a mental note for myself for later, I stepped through the doorway to see a small circular table with eight chairs around it. The one who had thrown the spider thing MY NAME IS THERIDION at me was already sitting. What his name was, I couldn’t remember, but I didn’t see whether or not he was armed. He was armored like the other two, and he still had his helmet up. I was willing to bet he had kept it on the whole time he had been on the station.

Since the three team members I had met so far were seated, I took a seat for myself. Before I was able to ask if I needed anything, my vision began to fade to black, as I saw text print itself across my vision while everything else went black.

INCOMING TRANSMISSION