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200 words about a gunship
Work blows. Fic happens in the breathing spaces between stupidity and hammering.
First Contact
The little ship is still warm from the Parent it came out of, but unlike him, it is inert. It fits into his bay like a tool into a socket. Reassuring. The pilot steps out of the little ship. Internal weapons prime, and the pilot is watched from every direction. The pilot is not like a tool, even though it also fits inside him. It is like a tiny Parent.
The pilot is exchanging some of the oxygen in the atmosphere for a mix of carbon dioxide, water vapor, and oddly familiar trace gases. The pilot uses the outflow to carry modulated vibrations, and the stimulus triggers the first of a series of imprinting programs.
This first program analyzes the vibration sample, then executes a series of commands. Internal weapons power down, natal language functions are brought online, and the ship begins to understand.
The pilot is speaking a Sebacean military dialect, and is an ally. The being is not a tiny Parent, it is his commanding officer. The commanding officer's speech is re-routed to the primary biological interface, and the ship begins to learn.
The first thing the ship learns is that the command structure is no longer valid.
First Contact
The little ship is still warm from the Parent it came out of, but unlike him, it is inert. It fits into his bay like a tool into a socket. Reassuring. The pilot steps out of the little ship. Internal weapons prime, and the pilot is watched from every direction. The pilot is not like a tool, even though it also fits inside him. It is like a tiny Parent.
The pilot is exchanging some of the oxygen in the atmosphere for a mix of carbon dioxide, water vapor, and oddly familiar trace gases. The pilot uses the outflow to carry modulated vibrations, and the stimulus triggers the first of a series of imprinting programs.
This first program analyzes the vibration sample, then executes a series of commands. Internal weapons power down, natal language functions are brought online, and the ship begins to understand.
The pilot is speaking a Sebacean military dialect, and is an ally. The being is not a tiny Parent, it is his commanding officer. The commanding officer's speech is re-routed to the primary biological interface, and the ship begins to learn.
The first thing the ship learns is that the command structure is no longer valid.
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I really, really liked this.
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Maybe he chose Crais because Crais knew about the project that created him, and had the proper attitude toward him (like a bright and promising cadet), whereas Aeryn treated him like a baby beast. She wanted to caretake and guide him, but he wanted challenge and sharpening instead.
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Oooooh. Marvelous, feldman! Really really marvelous.
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but he's our prototype!
--and making a sentient Big Fucking Gun was probably not the best idea the PKs ever had.
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Oh, BWAH.
Indeed. Shortsighted, Crais was -- just a bit.
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But the approach had stymied me because I didn't want to write first person (too precious, and too obtrusive), but I wanted to really be limited by his point of view. Of course, that also meant I had to have a clear idea of what his point of view was, at least to start.
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Feldman, that is a beautiful description:)
Talyn's guides so often think they are teaching him and protecting him, when instead they are using him, and unlike Moya, he fights back, angrily demands what he thinks he wants or needs. He's exactly like a toddler or a teenager, and requires calm, skillful guidance, and there's just no one capable of giving it to him. Poor little ship, with his great big gun.