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What's Junk? (The Mech Touch)

Reader mode
Cybershadowninja2 said:
I may be to slow at the moment but who's cursed? Is it all humans or just the ones on that planet?
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It is the Cosmopolitan infection. The one that makes Humans see Xenos as more important. When Humanity first left its cradle, they weren't so xenophobic. They sent ambassadors and scientists and tourists to other alien civilizations. And suffered for it. Some ate people, some back-stabbed humanity, some were actively hostile, and at least one created a spiritual-active viral infection that makes a Human see any sentient non-human as more important than any number of humans.
 
lost star said:
"Another thing you do not know!" The Arboretian seemed gleeful at that. "Oh, I will deign to inform you of some of it, if only because it will torment you more. Based on our studies, someone cursed your people long ago. We simply take advantage of it when we can. It is general knowledge amongst us by the way, so enjoy the knowledge that you cannot trust your fellows. The affliction is masterfully beautiful, impossible to remove, and embedded in your very sense of humanity. "
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Clearly this is the curse of Xianxia!
 
lost star said:
If you wanna suggest them I don't mind.
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Then can I suggest some of the Zoids? because the Liger Zero has a potentially neat gimmick in changing roles based on the armor it's equipped with for potential third rate shenanigans (Before we get into the Fuzors anime that lets some Zoids fuse together for more power.), and Gilvader is a dragon Zoid with gravity saws and LEO capabilities in lore. For some examples.
 
I think you did a good job of depicting an alien intelligence close enough to human to be understandable but alien enough to be unique.
It's always great when aliens aren't humans with long ears.
 
M151 New
The interview had been brief but it'd given both Bolt and Lilly a lot to unpack. The 'curse' talk had landed like a bomb. Poor Phillipe seemed more than a little disturbed by it. Even Bolt felt disturbed by it and he wasn't effected. The various implications about it involved things he'd rather not think about.

It was something he'd have to contemplate after he checked everything immediately relevant. He'd hastily created several tools for this event, and they'd all been installed with recorders. Most of them were paltry, more designed to theoretically do something than verifiably do something. The improvised jammer for instance was supposed to jam spiritual communications. Despite his progress he had no doubts he was a novice at everything. His only real advantage was that humans really didn't do a lot of this and the alien likely hadn't even considered his presence and capability.

"Status?" Odette asked after Phillipe was cleared.

"Based on the data, there was an attempt to send something out. I think I stopped it, but this is new tech." Bolt tapped at the jammer and the anomalous records it'd reported.

"You are not certain though." Odette concluded with a small wince as she seemed to realize something. "That is progress and something special, but I will have to keep it from the report it because this is probably breaking several rules having you here and using an untested tool with unknown results. I appreciate the aid, but in retrospect this should not be recorded."

"Think it was telling the truth about the curse?" Lilly asked the main question on the couple's mind.

"Would you believe it is not the first time it has been brought up?" Odette said in return as she sighed and took a seat in the surveillance room they were in looking suddenly very weary. "This iz classified, but I feel I should speak of it anyway, and you have access to it technically. Despite what the MTA and CFA would tell the public, we do have lines of communication with some other alien races. None of it would be called friendly, but a cold front against a relatively harmless foe is sometimes more valuable for us. An unsaid but official policy is to let some less than threatening aliens survive for various reasons. Thus we have mentions of this 'curse' from others."

"Ya don't sound happy about it." Bolt noted.

"Because it is complicated. Do you know of a faction called the Cosmopolitans?" Odette paused and the continued when the couple shook their heads. "They are essentially alien sympathizers. They're characterized by erratic behavior, suicidal empathy, and considering humans worthless."

That sounded very familiar. Bolt felt his eyes narrow as his mind raced. Having a name assumed they were organized enough to coordinate. That brought several things here to new light.

"Yes, you can see. Our nations leading theory is that this curse the alien is referencing is a psychological equivalent of a stress reaction that can happen in alien presence. There are many theories though and it iz extremely hard to narrow down anything because we seem to lack something that can detect it. If it was just genetics or psychology we would have purged it long ago. Estimates are that five to thirty percent of humanity is vulnerable, but as I said we cannot detect it, so we don't know." The woman explained with exhaustion.

"So a third of humanity is secret traitors?" Lilly asked incredulously.

"That's where the complication truly comes in. Some of them are simply opportunists. Some of them are genuinely mentally ill. Some show no signs until the last second. Humanity is rife with people who simply hate their race or are willing to betray everyone for some sort of benefit. We cannot separate that attitude from the 'curse.'" Odette waved around the room. "Then you have to take into account the fact that aliens are all beaten or suppressed. Like here. Sure they might have managed to win this planet, but that would have just prompted the MTA to come in with a hammer. Not all of the Cosmopolitans are mentally deficient."

Of course it couldn't be simple. Bolt looked over his tools and suddenly felt inadequate. How would he even go about detecting that. Could it be detected? The designer paused here. It could be. Assuming the alien could do it, perhaps he could establish a detection? But how?

"If you are thinking of investigating, feel free." Odette interpreted his look. "Do not dwell on it too much though. Without threatening aliens the Cosmopolitans are either useless or hiding so well that it doesn't matter." The woman gave a small shrug. "We've learned to deal with it in places like this and have at least some precautions. It is probably why this particular event didn't truly result in a complete loss. A singular assassin on me would have made things very grim for instance and they had to pull in outside aide."

The designer took a deep breath and let it out before nodding. "I understand. But..." He trailed off and looked at his tools again. "I hate it."

Odette's laugh was bitter. "I do as well. Yet that conversation might have finally given us a possible direction to look into. The fiend stated that thinking oneself as human triggers it, and that we can verifiably test. We may have a treatment or immunization of sorts if we follow that line of thought. We even have some traitors that could serve as tests."

"Ouch." Bolt observed with a wince as he realized what that would entail.

There were methods of changing people's minds, and none of them were pleasant, or entirely ethical really. He wasn't going to stop it though. Traitors were not something anyone could tolerate. He didn't even object to the possible action. He just didn't want to think about it.

"Yes, it will be unpleasant, but there were likely worse things planned." The expert shrugged. "Regardless, this is not your problem. Did you gather anything else?"

"Off record or on record?" Bolt asked back. "Because you already said my tools wouldn't be put into the report."

Not that he wanted them to be really. Spiritual construction was still very gray as an area and the MTA wouldn't be happy if he threw around tools and promises. Hell, he didn't want to do any promises because he was still testing and experimenting on things.

"I will take off record."

"The Arboretian was trying to communicate out, as I said. I may have stopped it." Bolt gestured to the communicator. "It did not appear to be doing anything else. If I were to guess it had a vision based analysis that wasn't blocked by the glass." Some sort of spiritual sight seemed likely, but those were highly species dependent. "Considering how spiteful it was, the last question felt like the most pertinent by my analysis. It wanted to know the answer there."

"They don't want uz to have their FTL. Which is not surprising." Odette mused before standing.

"I'd say that Phillipe is fine mentally too. Call it intuition." Lilly offered herself. "If I were to describe it I'd say his will was his own."

Odette nodded with a small and sad smile. "That iz good. Expert intuition is more potent than many sensors at times. He and his friends have done us a large favor. Enough that I would have to ask a favor from you as well, much as it shames me."

"Oh?" Bolt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Take him and his friends and leave before the end of the day. With things winding down transportation to orbit is safe. You have full clearance to leave, but that could be revoked at any time. If you leave now with the children we can avoid some... Messy complications." Odette said slowly.

The couple exchanged glances. Now that she had brought that up, it sounded like a very good idea. Bolt got to his feet and his wife joined him. He then offered Odette a hand and they shook.

"I'm glad to have met you." The designer paused and gave a small grin. "Mind if I request a few souvenirs?"

The gatling guns woodpecker had used and a few of those special trees sounded like they'd be very fun to play with, and he was sure the natives wouldn't miss them. If anything Debora would appreciate the additional data in his opinion. It was a relatively small and easy ask.

He also wanted to make a proper Second Rate Expert mech for Lilly now.
 
M152 New
Bolt had unfairly disparaged the Second Rate ship he and his wife had inherited in retrospect. It really didn't deserve any sort of badmouthing. The ship was meant for a scion of a Second Rate rich family. It was large, fully automated, and very useful. Especially in this case, because it had room for all the new passengers and more. The fact that it could fly on its own was another bonus.

Though admittedly it wasn't meant to really do that continuously. Automated ships tended to ignore a lot of things that pilots did as a matter of course, and required more maintenance if you used it frequently. Bolt was perfectly able to maintain it at present by hiring people to do so, but he'd still been treating the ship roughly. Sure he was going to sell it. That didn't need to mean he should be sloppy with it all.

Oddly, that was what Phillipe and his friends focused on once they arrived. Well, not so oddly. Bolt knew sometimes you just wanted to do something to keep your mind off things. Running around a ship and handling various small maintenance tasks that needed to be handled was very tame as a method of coping.

"You really didn't care much did you?" The teenager muttered as he looked over the logs of things that had needed to be done.

Bolt shrugged. "Didn't see the point. Lotta work required for something we planned on selling in a few months. Made sure the basics were covered and that's it." Some of the tasks had not been a one person task either.

Phillipe frowned. "You are reducing the sell value! You are technically inclined, you should have been able to handle all of thiz." He protested before grumbling. "Do you not care about the credits?"

"That answer is complicated." Bolt responded before sighing and settling back on the plush seat.

The little foyer here barely looked like a room in a ship. It had plush carpeting, wooden walls, and enough decorations that you could only tell it was inside a spaceship if you pulled back some of the walls. Normally Bolt would have disdained it, but whomever had designed it had done some very tasteful decorations and the environment was top notch. It was probably the most relaxing area in the ship and a personal favorite of his.

"Complicated usually means that the adults don't want to explain things." The young man responded, sounding young for once.

"Was more thinking 'bout how to explain it rather than avoid it." Bolt mused before just figuring he'd go ahead and explain what he could. "So, it took me awhile ta get ahold of this in my head, but I'm rich. Rich by Second Rate sensibilities, comfortable by First Rate depending on things."

"What?" Phillipe looked at the ship, then at Bolt, and then at the report and finally turned to stare at the designer. "You said you lived in a Third Rate area."

It was probably best to simplify and keep things relatively obscured. "I do. I invented several things that are bringing me income. Enough that money's not really a concern to me. My concern is more safety and freedom."

"That makes no sense at all." The young man protested and then frowned. "How much money?"

"Another complication there, I got no damned clue." Bolt held up a hand to keep the other man from yelling. "It's all in various credits. Seriously, I got six accounts with different credits at the moment." The young man rubbed at his forehead. "I can't trust an accountant to handle it either because I need to keep a low profile right now. Ain't like I have a business with half of em. A lotta it's licensing stuff, which makes it even more complex."

Phillipe set down the report he'd been looking over. "Low profile?!" He asked incredulously.

"Er, would you believe this isn't that bad in the grand scheme of things?" Bolt said sheepishly as he looked away from the teen's incredulous look. "But let's not really get into it. Instead, since I have you here, what are your plans for the future?"

Those words took the wind out of the teen's sales. Not that Bolt intended to. The question simply needed to be asked sooner rather than later, and the boy sounded stable enough to make a few decisions.

Unfortunately, the decisions weren't easy. Phillipe and his friends had at best a 'high school education.' Which was an ill defined thing that was different between nations. Some of them didn't have that, with the youngest being six and barely in schooling. Since they were from a Second Rate system, most of their education was fairly thorough and at a relatively high level for their age. It was still limited because they were just young.

Grunt work was the best job they could get with that level of knowledge. This wasn't bad in a Second Rate nation if you focused. Technology typically meant that most people just needed to have the willpower to do many jobs. Lessons were very frequently less expensive than finding the proper attitude. Depending on their work ethic, every teen could manage a comfortable living with relative ease. They could even afford a proper medical treatment in a few years. This was assuming that they were willing to put in the work and take the risks.

This was not the worst time for risk taking either. Despite Bolt's casual vacation, the Friday nation was still very much at war. They were getting their teeth kicked in to put it politely. This meant they were eager for volunteers. Phillipe and his friends could easily get some sort of risky job and high paying job by simply walking in and offering. The only issue was that about half the group was younger siblings that couldn't provide for themselves. A risky job risked them becoming orphans, and considering the circumstances that could result in very bad things.

Bolt's stopgap solution was mostly to hire the oldest as assistants of sorts. It was a relatively safe job that could keep them together. It wasn't charity either. The couple really did need someone trusted in that position, and the teens had proven themselves fairly trustworthy. This entailed mostly acting as gofers, minor security, and in the case of the ship, acting as extra hands for tasks Bolt couldn't do solo. Bolt and Lilly really should have gotten someone for this beforehand. Neither one of them were going to get any less busy.

He... Might have neglected to take into account one or two factors after the paperwork had been done. Minor cultural things really. Like the fact that their home nation had a tradition of specific outfits for the role, and all of the kids had grown up in rich households. They took to the new assignment with gusto, with maid and butler outfits and very formal body language. Bolt was sure it was fine at their home, but it implied certain things to have young teens in that sort of thing in his area. (Thankfully, these weren't fetishized outfits, just formal outfits that were frequently meant to implicate certain things.)

Another small problem would likely arise later as well. This one was something Bolt did account for. Phillipe and the others were going to be getting some consultation and possible treatments once they landed back at Morocco Haven. That would include hormonal treatment and possibly body adjustments depending on cost and presence. This would mean increased sexual characteristics, and teenagers being teenagers.

Bolt made sure that Phillipe would handle all of that. In point of fact, it was his only real order after he gave them employment. He was not going to deal with teenage pregnancies or inappropriate behavior. There was a distinct chance that it would be more muted than normal due to their alien DNA, but he was not going to even get close to touching that whole mess.

On the positive side, the small group actually seemed to enjoy the new jobs and he could see something like a security group forming if they worked at it. They had good teamwork, decent judgment, and their augments were actually quite handy on a personal level. There was some decent income there if one got the proper certifications and such. If anything, their unusual complexion and abilities would be considered a bonus.

Bolt landed on the planet with good feelings. He tried to ignore the fact that he felt more refreshed than he had after taking a break. It was one thing to grow up in a war. It was another to acknowledge that you were more comfortable there than anything else.
 
M153 New
With everything that happened it was hard to remember it had all occurred on a different world lightyears away. Bolt was reminded of that when settled in at Morocco Haven. The place had not changed a singular bit. Everything was the same. They landed and got installed in the same VIP rooms without a hint of disruption or trouble. It felt almost like a letdown. They didn't even have news of what had happened. Which made sense, but was still disorientating.

Phillipe and his friends felt differently. It was their first time at a beach. Even better for them, it was their first time at a place where their unusual complexion wasn't considered a bad thing. The planet they'd grown up on had taken pains to conceal things, but it's still been on a war footing. They were suddenly in an environment that didn't have a hint of violence.

Had they been normal teenagers they would have almost immediately gotten into trouble. Instead the group decided in unison to visit a few clinics and see about getting treatment for their conditions. Several of them even got some easy cosmetic adjustments to make themselves less, there was no better way to put this, alien. The genetic adjustments they'd been given before birth had not lent themselves to conventional human attractiveness, and simple cosmetic treatments were fairly standard in this day and age. Getting their outward appearance addressed was relatively cheap and also significantly helped their mood.

Privately Phillipe confided some private concerns with Bolt about the 'curse' the Arboretian had spoken of, and it possibly being activated if they got fixed. Bolt had done his best to encourage the boy and allay his concerns. The designer didn't think he could truly address the whole curse anytime soon, but he was working on tools for it and did have an idea or two that should hopefully at least help them locally.

Of course all of those tools would need him to build from the ground up. Which meant starting on something he'd been planning awhile. It was time to implement the spiritual analog to a mental implant. He'd done testing, theoretical work, and double checked all his blueprints. The only thing stopping him was himself and his reluctance to work with mental constructs.

There as a small decision he had to make first though. Bolt's creations worked best when the form synergized with the function. A small helmet or circlet would be best, but it would also be obvious, and a bit annoying to wear. He was torn between an ear piercing and a tattoo, though both would have less effect. He could also do glasses? What to do, what to do.

Lilly was the one to make the decision in the end. She wanted to have one as well, and matching earrings for the both of them felt the least intrusive of the options. They could be removed and adjusted at their leisure and so far as decorations went it was relatively normal.

With an item in mind the rest was fairly easy. The finished earrings looked like a small and dangling shiny gemstones. Inside the gem was a tiny computer chip that had Lilly and his biometric data on it. There was nothing else physically there. The representation was more important than the physical construction.

On the spiritual side it was also a relatively sparce construction. At least in the initial step. A key thing that made computers useful was their ability to be programmed. His spiritual augmentation was designed to be similar. It gave him a small blank canvas to do anything. Store data, create programs, even design if he was so inclined. It didn't hold a candle on a dedicated designer program or computer, but that wasn't the point.

The point was that it was a platform for further things. One of which involved using another microchip with his data and literally pasting it to his comm. That, combined with a tiny bit of work and programming on both ends gave him the ability to transfer data to the comm from his spiritual tool. It was a one way connection and not particularly robust at the moment, but it opened up so many options. His comm had far more processing power than most Second Rate computers after all. He could offload a lot of calculations to that, or other computers now that he had proof of concept.

His next goal was to buy a First Rate comm and get it setup for Lilly next year when he had more MTA credits. For now, at her insistence, she had a small two way communication with the spirits in her mechs. They weren't chatty, but the expert loved having it.

All told, the tool didn't take that much time to build. The next tool didn't take much time either. It was basically a mental 'sandbox' for him to experiment with further construction. The equivalent of a spiritual simulator, though very simple. The primary function was to let him envision and store blueprints. It didn't hold a candle to a proper designing suite, but that was fine. Being able to recall a design with a mental command was very powerful.

With the groundwork finished Bolt moved onto his next most immediate task. Helping Phillipe and his friends. This was where he had less confidence. Bolt honestly had no idea where to even start in trying to fix the curse. Even trying to investigate it felt far away. How would he identify someone who'd been afflicted? He didn't have enough information. He was not trained in medical or psychological disciplines either. What if the curse used multiple vectors? Did it wait for a certain thought? Was it tied to a genetic code? He'd need to build an entire suite of detectors and have thousands of volunteers to get an idea, and even then it wasn't a guarentee.

Yet even with all of those obstacles Bolt could help. If he couldn't be precise in targeting the issue he'd use brute force. He'd reinforce everything and make damned sure his allies could keep their minds.

The base material he chose was a dark and shiny material when refined. Chosen for it's immutability, the stuff was inert in all respects. It was used mostly in insulation, but was notoriously rigid and hard to work with. It was not magnetic, it rejected electricity, and even heat took time to go through. It was a rejection of the world, and perfect for his means.

With spiritual reinforcement the material would function as a spiritual brace. It would give a person the ability to reject things they disliked. Bolt might not have had an idea of how to fight the curse, but he believed this would be the next best thing. A rejection of unwanted change and a rock that a person could rest on if they needed.

Unfortunately Bolt had to use something that pictured restraint. That meant collar, belt, or bracelets. Bracelet was the one with the least complications, but the user would need two of them, and they'd look uncomfortably like thin manacles. He wasn't particularly happy about that, but when you needed something, looks were secondary. They were relatively easy to make at least. Once the form factor was done it took about ten minutes for every object thanks to his work with his mental construct. It left him with a headache after working on it, but he finished without trouble.

It wasn't a fix. It was a prevention. It was also a tiny bit unfortunate in that it reinforced certain implications that Bolt was trying to avoid. He couldn't avoid it. The device had to be something that brought to mind restraint, and there were precious few articles of every-day clothing that had that concept. The objects could be covered if it was necessary, and he'd tried to make them as appealing as a solid metal circlet could be.

"Zo we just wear them?" Phillipe asked once Bolt presented the objects he'd made to the teen.

"Yep." Bolt held out the items he'd made. "Got em in belt, bracelet, and choker form. The metal doesn't lend itself to comfort though. I'm just thankful it doesn't have to be tight. You can wrap them in something later."

The teen shrugged and took a metal choker. "Not the worst fashion statement. I'll see how the belt feels later." He snapped it on around his neck and blinked several times. "You are certain you didn't add anything to it?"

"Solid metal. Aside from the special effect I added, they're just metal circles." Bolt responded with a trace of worry at the boy's reaction.

"I feel like I have steel in my spine now." Phillipe muttered and flexed a hand. "It is not a bad feeling."

Bolt stared for a moment with raised eyebrows. He had tested it. The feeling had been subtle to his senses. "That isn't something most people can detect." Phillipe's spiritual senses must have been powerful. "But regardless, that's the special effect. The MTA calls it psionics. I call it spirituality, just don't spread it around. It's not quite classified, but I do not want the attention and I'm a novice at it."

"I will not." The teen promised, still flexing his hands before tapping at the collar and taking it off. "Hmm. Yes there is a big difference. I want to say this will work."

"Best solution I could think of in the time we had." Bolt admitted. "The next one would require someone with medical experience and training from me, and that can't happen for years." Until he hit Senior and could spread his lessons more.

"Then it will have to work." The teen nodded and put the collar back on. "Until then, we have some beaches to hit. Thank you for everything." He said with a small bow.

Bolt chuckled and waved off the kid. Let him enjoy the sun, surf, and sand when he had the time. It wouldn't last.
 
lost star said:
It wasn't a fix. It was a prevention. It was also a tiny bit unfortunate in that it reinforced certain implications that Bolt was trying to avoid. He couldn't avoid it. The device had to be something that brought to mind restraint, and there were precious few articles of every-day clothing that had that concept. The objects could be covered if it was necessary, and he'd tried to make them as appealing as a solid metal circlet could be.
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..... They're still dressed as maids and butlers, right?

Yes, implications.
 
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