999 OCTILLION SOULS, May 19, 2024
I FLIGHT
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TRANSLATOR'S NOTE:The following information is derived from Information Seed 40 and received by the Gravitational Wave Observatory. I and AI performed a frequency analysis on it. IE edited certain parts to make them more 'readable'. (He might have overdone it.) Please feel free to comment.13
Legume's thick skin was slicked with nervous sweat as she clutched her daughter Charlotte close. The Wugum officer, Zfug, loomed over them, his warty brow furrowed – a Wugum's closest attempt at an expression. Humor was a strange concept to his kind, their guttural language devoid of even the slightest lilt.
The cramped pod thrummed with the vibrations of the docking sequence. Legume had yearned for a life beyond the confines of her habitat. Here, in this galaxy where countless habitats orbited captured stars, individuality was stifled, and reproduction strictly controlled. But Legume dreamt of a life where Charlotte, her sprout of a daughter, could grow free.
astro_raj: tense, why are they in the escape pod?
luo_ji: docking sequence checks out
Zfug, a junior officer on the Wugum asteroid mining vessel, Ore Seeker, harvesting the system's raw materials, had offered escape – a risky proposition for a Wugum who valued order above all else. Now, with the hum of the docking clamps locking them into the Wugum ship, Legume felt a surge of gratitude mingle with the ever-present fear. They were aboard, hidden within the bowels of a vessel captained by a race that would show them no mercy if discovered. Legume, with Charlotte nestled safely against her side, braced for whatever unknown future awaited them amongst the Wugums.
doc_T: quite a risk she’s taking
The Wugums were known for their strict adherence to order and their ruthless enforcement of rules. Being discovered on the Ore Seeker would mean certain punishment, not just for her but for Charlotte as well. She couldn't let that happen. The standard punishment involved immediate confinement in the ship's brig, a small, cramped cell that was barely larger than a coffin. The conditions were harsh, with minimal food and water provided, and no contact with the outside world.
cap_mal: been in a brig. done that.
But the punishment didn't end there. Once the Ore Seeker docked at the nearest Wugum outpost, stowaways were subjected to public trial and humiliation. The Wugums held these trials in the central square of their colonies, where the accused were paraded before the citizens. The trials were swift and merciless, often resulting in sentences of hard labor.
Legume knew all too well the terror of these punishments. She had heard stories of those who had been caught and the grisly fate that awaited them. The thought of being subjected to such horrors was almost too much to bear. She had to find a way to avoid detection, not just for her sake but for Charlotte’s as well.
Legume watched with pride as Charlotte enjoyed her meal of sweet potatoes and mealworms, a rare luxury. The sweet potatoes, roasted to caramelized perfection, filled the space with a warm aroma. The lightly sautéed mealworms offered a tender, nutty flavor.
Charlotte's eyes sparkled with delight as she took her first bite. She savored the sweet potatoes slowly, her small hands eagerly grasping each piece. Her contented hums and flushed cheeks spoke volumes of her enjoyment. As she reached for a handful of crispy mealworms, Legume's heart swelled with affection.
Legume remembered her childhood of scarce meals and hunger, feeling fulfilled now as she watched her daughter relish in abundance. Charlotte giggled as a mealworm wriggled in her palm before she quickly ate it, her laughter bringing joy to Legume's heart.
ru_mikhail: why wriggle?
translator: no idea
14
A vein throbbed in the Grand Emperor's temple, pulsing a furious rhythm against the cool metal of his skull. He stood before the assembled court, a whirlwind of crimson robes billowing around his imposing form. A Giant amongst Giants all of them at least eight feet tall, bodies enhanced with XNA, artificial blood cells, nanobots, and brain chips. Below him, a sea of faces – aristocrats, generals, admirals, courtiers, all the VIPs of the Grand Empire – remained studiously still. Their silence was heavy, thicker than the recycled air pumped through the expansive throne room of his Dyson swarm palace.
cosmos_boss: gotta build me one of those too
"Ninety megaseconds by Urt!" the Emperor boomed, his voice echoing off the polished chrome walls. "Ninety megaseconds I've entrusted you, my loyal advisors, with the most delicate of tasks – population control! A necessary evil, wouldn't you agree? We need the energy to produce lupsofot! To fight the Andromedans and their allies. To serve our Masters."
translator: the Masters are high-dimensional beings like St. Trillian
IE: the so-called HiDimBes are anti-AI and exist in multiple dimensions / parallel universes simultaneously
us_gwo: fantasy hokum
I've coddled these pompous peacocks and what do I get? the Grand Emperor thought. A drunken oaf spilling my plans to a hobbit! A reporter! As if the fate of the entire Grand Empire hinges on the scribblings of some upstart with dubious journalistic talent.
He swept a hand across the room, taking in the ornately carved furniture, and the tapestries woven with the stories of past emperors. Every gleaming object and hologram displayed the glorious history of the Grand Empire.
Control. It's all about control, the Grand Emperor thought. These bloated aristocrats wouldn't understand the delicate dance we perform – keeping the population in check to reach Wavej supremacy while maintaining the illusion of prosperity. One misstep, one public outcry, and the whole system crumbles.
"And yet," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl, "a drunken buffoon of a baron mayor spills our secrets to some first-time reporter! A reporter, for St Trillian's sake! Does discretion hold no meaning in the Grand Imperial court?"
doc_T: the boss is angry. the president can throw tantrums like that too
Perhaps it's time to remind them... gently of course... who holds the real power here, the Grand Emperor thought. A public execution? A humiliating demotion for a few key Houses? A message needs to be sent. Loudly.
The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the rhythmic hiss of the ventilation system. The Grand Emperor paced, his crimson robes swirling around his boots like angry flames. Five excruciating kiloseconds he spent dissecting the baron's idiocy, his misplaced trust, and the potential fallout from Legume's discovery.
hatmaker_H: emperor rants for 90 minutes?
us_gwo: sounds like someone needs a vacation.
But this reporter... Legume, they called her? the Grand Emperor thought. A ridiculous name for a ridiculous creature. How much damage can she do? Still, the thought of the public questioning my decisions... it grates. Like nails on obsidian.
The Grand Emperor burned the security detail, their laxity bordering on treason. He lambasted the Ministry of Information for their failure to adequately vet reporters, to weed out threats like a hobbit upstart with a thirst for scandal.
uk_gwo5: get that man a cup of chamomile tea
There must be a way to contain the situation, the Grand Emperor thought. A hefty bribe to the right media outlet, a carefully worded press release... damage control. But the baron... that buffoon. He'll pay dearly for this.
The Grand Emperor even, in a moment of particularly low self-control, launched into a tirade about the audacity of bio-engineered vegetables dreaming of becoming journalists.
The Grand Emperor's voice gave out, hoarse and raw. The court remained frozen, faces pale, breaths held.
Finally, with a flourish of his crimson robes, the Grand Emperor turned. "Leave me," he rasped. "And for the Masters' sake, ensure this never happens again!"
As the VIPs scurried out, a low rumble filled the boundless hall. The Grand Emperor, alone at last, let out a weary sigh. He slumped onto his obsidian throne, the weight of the Grand Empire, and the burden of a drunken baron's stupidity, pressing down on him like a suffocating black hole.
otavio_br: the emperor needs a nap