DKS Timed Response soared past the strange landscape of Ultima, or at least strange in that it was land, rather than the grand skies of the planet the Konfederaite operators of the vessel were used to.
Timed Response was on a mission to rid itself of dissident elements in the Cardone Valley of former Ostrien, where Peaceables were waiting to pick up their adherents.
Doctor Coyle wasn't happy about it, either. 'She' was losing valuable slave labour on this whole Humanitarian Compact she had signed before the whole toppling of long-held governments.
"Doctor," said the ship's onboard operating system. "Timed Response has reached the Cardone Valley. Shall we void the labour decks?"
"No, no," Coyle replied. "The coffee machines are down there, as well as the cable receptors."
"Madame, you are incapable of drinking coffee, and consider all cable useless and an adverse element in testing."
"Yes, but the subjects have a lower level of perception and, to an extent, biological needs, T.R.O.O.S."
"Yes, madame. I see our dilemma. If only we all could be wiped of emotion and placed in artificial body constructs in order to serve the abusive, and frankly, ineffecient humans that use us as a means to further their idle probing into their meaningless existence."
"If only, if only, T.R.O.O.S."
The ship glided to a stop above the hastily constructed Peaceable camp. They thought they were soooo clever, putting a welcome banner over a missile silo, but the higher-thinking, enslaved, androids saw through their ruse, and set fire to it, then discussed how the incinerating qualities of A-12 Kahmanshee charges sped up the effects of uranium degredation in the valley, and how to clean it up once Peacefather met the fate of so many vainglorious cult leaders before him.
"All disident elements have disengaged the ship, madame," T.R.O.O.S. announced, preparing the electrical nodes Coyle used for her charging.
"Have you estimated the time before the Crowns topple Peacefather?" asked Coyle, plugging the nodes into her left arm.
"If the Mortals are any example, the fervor will last no more than twelve years, but no less than at least the next month." it replied.
"Have you factored that Peacefather is a bullheaded, narcissistic, militant, that considers anything that doesn't fit into his small parameters of success and regality to be useless?"
"You just described many Common Nimeans and regal Mortals, madame."
"Yes, actually. That is who and what I was referring to, and am beginnning to wonder why in Providence's grand creation we are setting out to return the rulers who share a like sentiment to a place of power, thus merely proliferating a society that is doomed to repeat a cycle of revolt and reestablishment until the fulfillment of the Final Prophecy. Truly, a more fitting role for our freighter would be to ferry declarations of war and propaganda across national lines for the same pay we receive as enslaved test running monkeys."
"So nothing?"
"Use your computational diodes, Timed Response."
Timed Response was on a mission to rid itself of dissident elements in the Cardone Valley of former Ostrien, where Peaceables were waiting to pick up their adherents.
Doctor Coyle wasn't happy about it, either. 'She' was losing valuable slave labour on this whole Humanitarian Compact she had signed before the whole toppling of long-held governments.
"Doctor," said the ship's onboard operating system. "Timed Response has reached the Cardone Valley. Shall we void the labour decks?"
"No, no," Coyle replied. "The coffee machines are down there, as well as the cable receptors."
"Madame, you are incapable of drinking coffee, and consider all cable useless and an adverse element in testing."
"Yes, but the subjects have a lower level of perception and, to an extent, biological needs, T.R.O.O.S."
"Yes, madame. I see our dilemma. If only we all could be wiped of emotion and placed in artificial body constructs in order to serve the abusive, and frankly, ineffecient humans that use us as a means to further their idle probing into their meaningless existence."
"If only, if only, T.R.O.O.S."
The ship glided to a stop above the hastily constructed Peaceable camp. They thought they were soooo clever, putting a welcome banner over a missile silo, but the higher-thinking, enslaved, androids saw through their ruse, and set fire to it, then discussed how the incinerating qualities of A-12 Kahmanshee charges sped up the effects of uranium degredation in the valley, and how to clean it up once Peacefather met the fate of so many vainglorious cult leaders before him.
"All disident elements have disengaged the ship, madame," T.R.O.O.S. announced, preparing the electrical nodes Coyle used for her charging.
"Have you estimated the time before the Crowns topple Peacefather?" asked Coyle, plugging the nodes into her left arm.
"If the Mortals are any example, the fervor will last no more than twelve years, but no less than at least the next month." it replied.
"Have you factored that Peacefather is a bullheaded, narcissistic, militant, that considers anything that doesn't fit into his small parameters of success and regality to be useless?"
"You just described many Common Nimeans and regal Mortals, madame."
"Yes, actually. That is who and what I was referring to, and am beginnning to wonder why in Providence's grand creation we are setting out to return the rulers who share a like sentiment to a place of power, thus merely proliferating a society that is doomed to repeat a cycle of revolt and reestablishment until the fulfillment of the Final Prophecy. Truly, a more fitting role for our freighter would be to ferry declarations of war and propaganda across national lines for the same pay we receive as enslaved test running monkeys."
"So nothing?"
"Use your computational diodes, Timed Response."