The oddly named Agrifrigate came about its appellation as the result of a now long-forgotten ship architect who wanted to tweak the noses of the space navy. After grudgingly accepting the loss of a potential battleship hull to become Warden's Codicil, the reallocation of another warship hull to Warden's construction set off howls of protest. That ship's architect, when presenting the final plans, blandly noted that "Agrifrigate" was chosen as the term used for that outrigger portion of the Warden out of respect and honor for the warship it might have become. No one was buying it, but the damage was done.
The Agrifrigate is another outrigger attachment to the Warden, connected to the great ship with three massive struts. Largely intended as the platform upon which a series of domes would be placed, the Agrifigate also has its own set of sensors, controls, and propulsion systems. While it would never have the range or speed of Warden, the Agrifrigate was meant to detach from its mothership after arriving at the Xi Ursae Majoris system and ferry the domes to whatever destination the crew determined would benefit from them most. Now that the terraforming of Scion and Essence has been completed and suitable cities constructed before the order could be given to detach the Agrifrigate, the domes now remain as integral parts of Warden. In fact, they may contain the salvation for Warden and its crew.
Citydome One is an anomaly. It contains a thriving, human civilization. When Warden passed through the radiation that wreaked so much havoc, the medical technology in Citydome One had progressed enough that much of the worst or most radical effects were avoided. The medical staff of Warden had critical lapses in judgment, refusing the help of Citydome One as unnecessary. Before the med centers of Warden realized that the crucial advances of the Citydome were all that could mitigate the damage, the disaster overwhelmed them. Citydome One and Two locked all entrances into themselves, and waited and watched nervously over the long years as the Warden became a bizarre wilderness.
Brief incursions by hostile mutants into Citydome One a century after the initial disaster shocked the citizens. The decision was made to not simply lock all entrances, but to permaweld them shut and reinforce all bulkheads shared with Warden itself. Centuries later, the population of the dome has become pessimistic and paranoid, believing they are last vestige of civilization not just on Warden, but in the galaxy. Locked within their databanks lay some potentially paradigm-shifting advances, from medical advances that seem miraculous, to theoretical models that, if applied to Warden's mighty thorium fusion drives, could allow the ship to breach the light barrier. The trouble is, the citydome-dwellers' technical know-how has eroded and their civilization has stagnated, rendering most of them incapable of making use of the advances left by their forbears. Still, there is some hope left. Acceptance of the few mutants among the population has begun to grow, helped by some very public and beneficial deeds performed by some of these mutated folk. These heroes attempt to instill some optimism into their fellow citydome-dwellers, confident that there is still a chance for life beyond the dome.
Citydome Two has fared even less well. Its population was hit hard by the radiation disaster. It had begun to recover when a massive meteor struck the dome, smashing a huge hole in it. Force fields kept the atmosphere contained, but the citizens of the dome had grown so fearful of the chaos that swept Warden that they refused entrance to the repair-bots sent to restore the dome. When a strong force of mutants invaded, the chief among them decided to cut power to the city, not comprehending the danger. The force fields blinked off and the atmosphere was vented into space; all within the dome died, both mutant army and citizens. Now it lays empty of both life and air. No resources were allocated to repair it, as nothing now lived there. But much of the resources of the city are still intact.
Garden Dome One is another haven of tropical and subtropical flora and fauna. There is a sense of calm here that is unusual for the Warden. The peaceful attercops, mutated garden spiders about the size of large dogs, have built a civilization of contemplative sages in this dome. Some few wander Warden's decks in search of truth, but most return here. Their flame-resistant webs are spun into intricate works of art meant as the foci of meditation. Many attercops are entranced by the stars outside their dome when the night cycle comes, and spend long hours mentally connecting the points of light with "memory strands" of "thought webs." This mental discipline has granted them the ability to shrug off any type of psychic intrusion or attack. While non-violence is their first tenet, they can and will defend themselves and innocents. This dome is one of the safer places anywhere on Warden, for those who come with no ill intentions.
Garden Dome Two was once an experimental environment, constructed to replicate the ecosystem of the American West and Southwest of approximately half-a-million to fifty thousand years ago. Revivified species, like cave lions, short-faced bears, mammoths, and woolly rhinos shared the plains and hills with horses and retrocamels. The radiation disaster did little damage to the reconstituted species, besides increasing the size of some of them, but many mutations occurred among the species which had been left without genetic alteration during the initial design of the dome. Centuries later, the dome is riotous with life. Among the apex predators are the cal-then, or Roach Lords. Almost three meters long and possessed of frightening intelligence, the legendary toughness of their ancestors is as increased as their size. Vicious and evil, cal-then will attack anything fearlessly if hungry. Only their tendency to fight among themselves keep them in check.
An intriguing organization also makes this dome their home. The Restorationists have made it their mission to gather all the information about and artifacts of the pre-radiation-disaster civilization of Warden. Decades of wandering the ship and recovering artifacts, recordings, and oral histories have given them a surprisingly accurate picture of what life was like for the original crew. Skilled with technology and possessing a reasonably accurate layout of the Warden, the Restorationists are the only beings short of the original crew who could expect to restore the ship to at least a semblance of what it was. Their base, housed in an old veterinary station, is filled with recovered tech items, and is, effectively, close to being a functioning control station for Warden. Only a small staff mans it, as most Restorationists are out and about on Warden's decks, seeking out more information and technology. While most Restorationists are unmutated humans, the organization is accepting of any sentient being who values the recovery of what was lost. Most of the mutants, particularly the animals and plants who have attained sentience, are more interested in building a new civilization than rebuilding the old one. Still, despite this difference in philosophy, all agree that restoring a stable society built upon learning from past mistakes is a noble goal, and recovering all the technology and knowledge that was lost or misplaced is a good way to go about that.
TEN-FOOT MULE: Ruminations on the art of Old School-Style D&D Dungeon Delving
Monday, October 10, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 16: Deck 1 - The Codicil: Command Nucleus, City Dome Three, and the Stratonome
The Codicil is an outrigger part of Warden, attached in a rather awkward-looking way to the main hull of the huge ship. In fact, the Codicil was laid down as a completely separate vessel, and attached to Warden as the core hull for a flagship of a colonial space navy. Once intended as a battleship, the hull was converted during construction to a massive command-and-control facility, with some of Warden's most powerful sensor arrays attached to it. The sleek, clean lines of the battleship shown in the blueprints ended up a boxy, almost forlorn attachment to the colony ship's bulk.
The Command Nucleus was the heart of Warden during the colony ship's early years. Essentially taking up most of the Codicil, the Command Nucleus is, or was, a de facto starship on its own, meant to be detached someday from Warden. Its large sensor arrays and interior space consisting of crew quarters, bridge facilities, labs, and machine shops, indicated it was meant to become an exploration vessel, scouting out Warden's surroundings, including other star systems, as well as fulfilling its role of flagship of a potential navy. It is now mostly empty; the mutant wars that raged throughout Warden took their toll. The counterattacks by the crew eventually bled the Command Nucleus dry, so that when the evil mutants finally attacked en masse, it was undermanned. The remaining crew fought heroically, and the mutant army's back was broken. But the crew had been killed to the last man, with no one to halt the looting done by the remnants of the mutant horde.
City Dome Three is a small, efficient bedroom community that once housed the crew of the Command Nucleus. It is now an eerie, empty place, with the few visitors to it telling tales of ghosts and invisible monsters haunting the neat, friendly-looking streets and neighborhoods.
The Stratonome is an unusual section of the Codicil, attached almost as an afterthought when room for it on the main hull of Warden was not available. It is commonly called the Air Deck, and was designed as a sanctuary for avians. Its three-kilometer height, augmented by holographic projections of even greater altitudes, seems to stretch on forever. The hulls are designed to be cliffs well-suited for use as aeries. The floor is a great grassland, teeming with prey animals for the raptors, and is also home to a variety of plains-loving herbivores, from horses to giraffes. The aft of the deck contains a series of lakes, ponds, and marshlands. An aesthetically beautiful deck, the Stratonome was as affected by the radiation disaster as any. Many mutants resulted, though the great wars passed this deck by. Mutations range from the more "common:" the massive thunderbirds and giant flamingoes good examples of gigantism; to the bizarre: the three-clawed flying fungoids called the obb, which take down prey with a combination of intense radiation emitted from their single eyes and psionic abilities. However, three main mutant species dominate the deck.
The flynn are winged humans. They have an allergy to grass and soil, so spend their lives on the wing, exulting in the sheer freedom of flight. While vegetarians (non-intelligent plants only!), the flynn seem to absorb sunlight or a facsimile of it, and can generate a blinding light from their outstretched wings. Generally benevolent, they take little interest in most others, though they will aid those in need if within sight of them.
The hawkoids are vaguely humanoid raptors. They are aggressive, and view most other life as prey. They are always on the hunt, battling the flynn and the great eagles for air superiority. Hawkoids evoke fear in those they attack, a terror so great as to paralyze most victims.
The houyhnhnm rule the grasslands. Intelligent horses, these mutants have impressive mind powers and an equally impressive opinion of themselves and their natural superiority. They use devolved humans as servants, treating them affectionately as pets. The houyhnhnm are aware of intelligent humans and humanoids, though rarely see them, outside the ever-moving flynn. Should they encounter such, they will at first mistake them for devolved humans. When they realize the mistake, they will be immediately apologetic. Still, they maintain an air of condescension that is unmistakable.
The culture that has developed on the Air Deck is loose to the point of non-existence. The numbers of the flynn keep the hawkoids in check, and the houyhnhnm maintain a fairly benevolent society, at least to those they consider intelligent. Still, the flynn are flighty and short of attention, the hawkoids scheme constantly, and the houyhnhnm are oblivious to the growing unrest among the devolved humans.
Next: Part 17: Deck 1 - The Agrifrigate: City Domes One and Two, Garden Domes One and Two
The Command Nucleus was the heart of Warden during the colony ship's early years. Essentially taking up most of the Codicil, the Command Nucleus is, or was, a de facto starship on its own, meant to be detached someday from Warden. Its large sensor arrays and interior space consisting of crew quarters, bridge facilities, labs, and machine shops, indicated it was meant to become an exploration vessel, scouting out Warden's surroundings, including other star systems, as well as fulfilling its role of flagship of a potential navy. It is now mostly empty; the mutant wars that raged throughout Warden took their toll. The counterattacks by the crew eventually bled the Command Nucleus dry, so that when the evil mutants finally attacked en masse, it was undermanned. The remaining crew fought heroically, and the mutant army's back was broken. But the crew had been killed to the last man, with no one to halt the looting done by the remnants of the mutant horde.
City Dome Three is a small, efficient bedroom community that once housed the crew of the Command Nucleus. It is now an eerie, empty place, with the few visitors to it telling tales of ghosts and invisible monsters haunting the neat, friendly-looking streets and neighborhoods.
The Stratonome is an unusual section of the Codicil, attached almost as an afterthought when room for it on the main hull of Warden was not available. It is commonly called the Air Deck, and was designed as a sanctuary for avians. Its three-kilometer height, augmented by holographic projections of even greater altitudes, seems to stretch on forever. The hulls are designed to be cliffs well-suited for use as aeries. The floor is a great grassland, teeming with prey animals for the raptors, and is also home to a variety of plains-loving herbivores, from horses to giraffes. The aft of the deck contains a series of lakes, ponds, and marshlands. An aesthetically beautiful deck, the Stratonome was as affected by the radiation disaster as any. Many mutants resulted, though the great wars passed this deck by. Mutations range from the more "common:" the massive thunderbirds and giant flamingoes good examples of gigantism; to the bizarre: the three-clawed flying fungoids called the obb, which take down prey with a combination of intense radiation emitted from their single eyes and psionic abilities. However, three main mutant species dominate the deck.
The flynn are winged humans. They have an allergy to grass and soil, so spend their lives on the wing, exulting in the sheer freedom of flight. While vegetarians (non-intelligent plants only!), the flynn seem to absorb sunlight or a facsimile of it, and can generate a blinding light from their outstretched wings. Generally benevolent, they take little interest in most others, though they will aid those in need if within sight of them.
The hawkoids are vaguely humanoid raptors. They are aggressive, and view most other life as prey. They are always on the hunt, battling the flynn and the great eagles for air superiority. Hawkoids evoke fear in those they attack, a terror so great as to paralyze most victims.
The houyhnhnm rule the grasslands. Intelligent horses, these mutants have impressive mind powers and an equally impressive opinion of themselves and their natural superiority. They use devolved humans as servants, treating them affectionately as pets. The houyhnhnm are aware of intelligent humans and humanoids, though rarely see them, outside the ever-moving flynn. Should they encounter such, they will at first mistake them for devolved humans. When they realize the mistake, they will be immediately apologetic. Still, they maintain an air of condescension that is unmistakable.
The culture that has developed on the Air Deck is loose to the point of non-existence. The numbers of the flynn keep the hawkoids in check, and the houyhnhnm maintain a fairly benevolent society, at least to those they consider intelligent. Still, the flynn are flighty and short of attention, the hawkoids scheme constantly, and the houyhnhnm are oblivious to the growing unrest among the devolved humans.
Next: Part 17: Deck 1 - The Agrifrigate: City Domes One and Two, Garden Domes One and Two
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 15: Deck 1: Observation Domes One and Two, Garden Dome Three, and the ADSEST
It is a bit of a misnomer to call Warden's topside "Deck One," but somewhere in the design and construction phases, the name was applied and, subsequently, stuck. Deck One is where some of Warden's most important facilities are attached to the ship.
The various domes and protuberances that make up the "deck" caused more than a little consternation among the military folk involved in the design and construction of Warden and her sister ships due to their vulnerability. In particular, the military contingent fiercely insisted the Command Nucleus and ADSEST be placed deep within the ship. They were eventually overruled, with the civilian authorities dismissing any plans for making Warden more like a military ship than need be. The only concessions won by the military were twofold. One, the main command facilities, the Command Nucleus and ADSEST, were made to be detachable from the ship, with their own propulsion systems. Two, the location of the Secondary Bridge was only known to those with top security clearance, constructed and placed by androids and robots directed by the command staff of the back-up crew. The military grudgingly accepted these two concessions, though even they had to acknowledge that the Warden and her sisters were still powerful vessels, nearly invulnerable to any combat vessel built by humans.
Directly attached to Deck One are Observation Domes One and Two, and Garden Dome Three. These will be dealt with here, while the rest of the components of Deck One will have entries of their own.
Observation Dome One is relatively small, about 30 meters in diameter, and is home to a one of the most advanced telescopes ever produced. Multi-spectrum scanning, optical observation, and cutting edge computer data analysis equipment makes this telescope facility able to accurately detect and directly observe Earth-sized planets out to ten light years. There are two very comfortable workstations in the dome, and during Warden's active era it was considered a coveted position among the scientific contingent of the crew. The dome had sat empty and idle for centuries, maintained by robots.
Observation Dome Two is considerably larger than One, measuring a kilometer in diameter. While equipped with a variety of telescopes and scanners, it is also filled with many laboratories of various sorts. Most interesting of all is that the dome is home to a cult of computer-worshippers called the Followers. The Followers search for any working computer, and venerate it by placing replacement components and other electronic devices near and around it. Thus, any visitors to the dome will be struck by the neatly-stacked quantum-crystal drives, dormant android minds, and handlabs that surround virtually every work station. The Followers are garbed in tattered IT-crew uniforms, handmade jumpsuits, and strange white shirt/black-pants-and-tie ensembles. Most carry fairly crude mock-ups of handlabs that they periodically wave about or speak to, which is their form of prayer. Any visitor who goes to touch any of the computer equipment will be ordered away with an irritated "MOVE!" by any nearby Follower. The Followers believe in the superiority of computers, namely the ship's AI, and will brook no interference by lesser beings. Warden's AI has been carefully and quietly observing the Followers since it came back online; when it decides to directly communicate with them, it will be a transformative experience for the cult.
Garden Dome Three was designed as a showcase, where climates and terrains not represented elsewhere on Warden were displayed on a rotating basis. It served as both a rest and recreation area for the crew, and as a large environmental laboratory for the scientists who made up the terraforming crew. When the radiation disaster struck Warden, the exhibited environment was a desert. The flora and fauna survived well, becoming tougher and even more able to survive harsh environments. Two of the more common, and dangerous, inhabitants are the horl choo and kai-lin. The horl choo, or porcupine plant, is an aggressive, ambulatory mutation, that can fire deadly poisonous quills with surprising range and accuracy. The kai-lin is a two-legged lizard-like plant, dragging its thick tail-root about to find moisture and carrion. Beyond these, there is a spectrum of cacti and other arid-adapted plants, mutated into tougher, but still familiar, forms. More enigmatic inhabitants of the dome include the armahellos and the elusive, strangely-intelligent Warden coyotes, which are among the few mammals able to exist in the brutal desert environment. Even more mysterious, if they even exist, are the shadow mirages that explorers of the dome have claimed to see, shimmering in the distant heat, flickering from point to point like reflected sunlight. Some assert these are mutated humans, absorbing cold in some impossible vibratory exchange, constantly seeking areas where the temperature is a degree or so less intense. They are particularly active, allegedly, during the dome's night cycle, gorging on the welcome cool of the dark.
ADSEST, or the Administration and Security Station, is, or was, Warden's main security headquarters and location of its brig. It contains the barracks and armory of the now long-gone security team. Now it is staffed by androids and robots, though between the attrition of centuries of chaos and war, and command overrides by Warden's AI and its formerly rivalrous constituent fragments, even the automated staff here is threadbare. The last of the human security personnel, dying of radiation and seeing no chance of relief, programmed the security 'bots and 'droids to attempt to maintain order and security as best they could. After so many years of turmoil, this resulted in wandering mechanical marshals which have attempted to bring order to the ship one village or dome at a time; some have found kindred spirits among the Ranchers of the Ranch Deck. With so many of its staff wandering the ship, the ADSEST is often an empty, lonely place, its equipment standing at the ready to be used to restore order.
Next: Part 16: Deck 1 - The Codicil: Command Nucleus, City Dome Three, and the Stratonome
The various domes and protuberances that make up the "deck" caused more than a little consternation among the military folk involved in the design and construction of Warden and her sister ships due to their vulnerability. In particular, the military contingent fiercely insisted the Command Nucleus and ADSEST be placed deep within the ship. They were eventually overruled, with the civilian authorities dismissing any plans for making Warden more like a military ship than need be. The only concessions won by the military were twofold. One, the main command facilities, the Command Nucleus and ADSEST, were made to be detachable from the ship, with their own propulsion systems. Two, the location of the Secondary Bridge was only known to those with top security clearance, constructed and placed by androids and robots directed by the command staff of the back-up crew. The military grudgingly accepted these two concessions, though even they had to acknowledge that the Warden and her sisters were still powerful vessels, nearly invulnerable to any combat vessel built by humans.
Directly attached to Deck One are Observation Domes One and Two, and Garden Dome Three. These will be dealt with here, while the rest of the components of Deck One will have entries of their own.
Observation Dome One is relatively small, about 30 meters in diameter, and is home to a one of the most advanced telescopes ever produced. Multi-spectrum scanning, optical observation, and cutting edge computer data analysis equipment makes this telescope facility able to accurately detect and directly observe Earth-sized planets out to ten light years. There are two very comfortable workstations in the dome, and during Warden's active era it was considered a coveted position among the scientific contingent of the crew. The dome had sat empty and idle for centuries, maintained by robots.
Observation Dome Two is considerably larger than One, measuring a kilometer in diameter. While equipped with a variety of telescopes and scanners, it is also filled with many laboratories of various sorts. Most interesting of all is that the dome is home to a cult of computer-worshippers called the Followers. The Followers search for any working computer, and venerate it by placing replacement components and other electronic devices near and around it. Thus, any visitors to the dome will be struck by the neatly-stacked quantum-crystal drives, dormant android minds, and handlabs that surround virtually every work station. The Followers are garbed in tattered IT-crew uniforms, handmade jumpsuits, and strange white shirt/black-pants-and-tie ensembles. Most carry fairly crude mock-ups of handlabs that they periodically wave about or speak to, which is their form of prayer. Any visitor who goes to touch any of the computer equipment will be ordered away with an irritated "MOVE!" by any nearby Follower. The Followers believe in the superiority of computers, namely the ship's AI, and will brook no interference by lesser beings. Warden's AI has been carefully and quietly observing the Followers since it came back online; when it decides to directly communicate with them, it will be a transformative experience for the cult.
Garden Dome Three was designed as a showcase, where climates and terrains not represented elsewhere on Warden were displayed on a rotating basis. It served as both a rest and recreation area for the crew, and as a large environmental laboratory for the scientists who made up the terraforming crew. When the radiation disaster struck Warden, the exhibited environment was a desert. The flora and fauna survived well, becoming tougher and even more able to survive harsh environments. Two of the more common, and dangerous, inhabitants are the horl choo and kai-lin. The horl choo, or porcupine plant, is an aggressive, ambulatory mutation, that can fire deadly poisonous quills with surprising range and accuracy. The kai-lin is a two-legged lizard-like plant, dragging its thick tail-root about to find moisture and carrion. Beyond these, there is a spectrum of cacti and other arid-adapted plants, mutated into tougher, but still familiar, forms. More enigmatic inhabitants of the dome include the armahellos and the elusive, strangely-intelligent Warden coyotes, which are among the few mammals able to exist in the brutal desert environment. Even more mysterious, if they even exist, are the shadow mirages that explorers of the dome have claimed to see, shimmering in the distant heat, flickering from point to point like reflected sunlight. Some assert these are mutated humans, absorbing cold in some impossible vibratory exchange, constantly seeking areas where the temperature is a degree or so less intense. They are particularly active, allegedly, during the dome's night cycle, gorging on the welcome cool of the dark.
ADSEST, or the Administration and Security Station, is, or was, Warden's main security headquarters and location of its brig. It contains the barracks and armory of the now long-gone security team. Now it is staffed by androids and robots, though between the attrition of centuries of chaos and war, and command overrides by Warden's AI and its formerly rivalrous constituent fragments, even the automated staff here is threadbare. The last of the human security personnel, dying of radiation and seeing no chance of relief, programmed the security 'bots and 'droids to attempt to maintain order and security as best they could. After so many years of turmoil, this resulted in wandering mechanical marshals which have attempted to bring order to the ship one village or dome at a time; some have found kindred spirits among the Ranchers of the Ranch Deck. With so many of its staff wandering the ship, the ADSEST is often an empty, lonely place, its equipment standing at the ready to be used to restore order.
Next: Part 16: Deck 1 - The Codicil: Command Nucleus, City Dome Three, and the Stratonome
Saturday, September 10, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 14: Deck 2: Wilderness Deck
Warden's "wilderness deck" has seen more warfare and damage than any other deck. The most vicious of the fighting between mutant factions took place here, with many long years passing with brutality the dominant theme. Eventually, though, attrition and Pyrrhic victories began to add up. The remnants of the worst of the evil factions faded into nothingness, with isolated individuals and bands of thugs all that's left of once-unbeatable forces.
Warden's reactivated automated environmental action systems repaired the damage done to the ecosystem, bringing the entire deck back into a steady-state condition. Rolling wooded hills, craggy bluffs, densely-packed forests, and a pleasant - if a bit cool - weather cycle makes this deck resemble the wilderness of much of Earth's northern hemisphere. Once blasted, torn, and burned, there is now a feeling of timelessness here, a sense of something patiently waiting in silence.
The main population here is descended from the downtrodden folk who bore the brunt of oppression by the warring factions. Once freed of the servitude and torment, these peaceful folk began to rebuild. New social systems began, towns and settlements were built, and the wilderness was made just a bit more friendly near the new population hubs. Further out, pioneers sought solitude, carving an existence with their own two (or more, as the case may be) hands (or equivalent manipulative organs).
Still, the danger has not left deck two. A few renegades that remain of the one-time ruling forces band together on occasion to ambush and prey on the weak, while packs of sawheads scour the forests for lone travelers, battling timber wolves for supremacy. The mysterious farwalker hyperions skirt the edges of civilization on unknown errands. Above, the sentinel eagles carry out their endless patrols, on the watch for the plasma wyrms that seem to come and go in a blink of an eye. The wilderness here is beautiful, but it will consume the unwary.
In addition, strangers to the deck need to take care that they don't project an air of danger to the ordinary folk here. They were once helpless to throw off the yoke of enslavement, their frustration growing to epic proportions before freedom was theirs. This memory of servitude and annihilation has served to created a culture of rugged individualists who can and will join forces if any sign of potential oppressors should appear. Deck two may appear to be an empty wilderness ripe for exploitation, but the inhabitants here think of it as theirs and theirs alone.
Next: Part 15: Deck 1: Observation Domes One and Two, Garden Dome Three, and the ADSEST
Warden's reactivated automated environmental action systems repaired the damage done to the ecosystem, bringing the entire deck back into a steady-state condition. Rolling wooded hills, craggy bluffs, densely-packed forests, and a pleasant - if a bit cool - weather cycle makes this deck resemble the wilderness of much of Earth's northern hemisphere. Once blasted, torn, and burned, there is now a feeling of timelessness here, a sense of something patiently waiting in silence.
The main population here is descended from the downtrodden folk who bore the brunt of oppression by the warring factions. Once freed of the servitude and torment, these peaceful folk began to rebuild. New social systems began, towns and settlements were built, and the wilderness was made just a bit more friendly near the new population hubs. Further out, pioneers sought solitude, carving an existence with their own two (or more, as the case may be) hands (or equivalent manipulative organs).
Still, the danger has not left deck two. A few renegades that remain of the one-time ruling forces band together on occasion to ambush and prey on the weak, while packs of sawheads scour the forests for lone travelers, battling timber wolves for supremacy. The mysterious farwalker hyperions skirt the edges of civilization on unknown errands. Above, the sentinel eagles carry out their endless patrols, on the watch for the plasma wyrms that seem to come and go in a blink of an eye. The wilderness here is beautiful, but it will consume the unwary.
In addition, strangers to the deck need to take care that they don't project an air of danger to the ordinary folk here. They were once helpless to throw off the yoke of enslavement, their frustration growing to epic proportions before freedom was theirs. This memory of servitude and annihilation has served to created a culture of rugged individualists who can and will join forces if any sign of potential oppressors should appear. Deck two may appear to be an empty wilderness ripe for exploitation, but the inhabitants here think of it as theirs and theirs alone.
Next: Part 15: Deck 1: Observation Domes One and Two, Garden Dome Three, and the ADSEST
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 13: Deck 3: Cargo Deck
Deck three may be the most hostile of Warden's decks. A darkened vacuum, mostly empty, this deck was set aside to store the vast terraforming machinery and fabrication facilities necessary to provide a livable environment for the colonists. That task was completed many long years ago, on two Earth-sized planets and a number of smaller outposts scattered among the other celestial bodies of the Xi Ursae Majoris system. Before the ship's systems could begin the task of building more such equipment, the Warden was overcome by chaos, its preprogrammed tasks put on hold. Further, an asteroid that made it past Warden's point defense managed to punch a hole into the ships thick armor, venting the atmosphere into space. Disabled and confused to begin with, the ship's AI set aside the task of repairing deck three. With no inhabitants or ecosystem of its own, the deck took low priority. So now it lays silent and mostly empty.
Any who try to access deck three must pass three security checks, each entailing increasingly loud, bright, urgent alarms. If intruders do manage to open the hatches, either by security scan or by force, the atmosphere of the accessway will rush to fill the vast void. Unprepared beings may well be swept along into the vacuum, and must find their way back to the hatch before it shuts.
While the deck is, indeed, mostly empty, "empty" is a relative term in such a large open area. The equipment left is surprisingly voluminous. Much of it is shipboard fabrication units, intended to build more terraforming equipment and factories. But even Warden's AI and its attendant robots and androids wouldn't recognize a mysterious collection of machinery scattered unobtrusively throughout the equipment logged on Warden's manifest. What this equipment is and where it came from - and why it does not register on Warden's sensors - are all mysteries awaiting a time when the deck is again accessible.
Next: Part 14: Deck 2: Wilderness Deck
Any who try to access deck three must pass three security checks, each entailing increasingly loud, bright, urgent alarms. If intruders do manage to open the hatches, either by security scan or by force, the atmosphere of the accessway will rush to fill the vast void. Unprepared beings may well be swept along into the vacuum, and must find their way back to the hatch before it shuts.
While the deck is, indeed, mostly empty, "empty" is a relative term in such a large open area. The equipment left is surprisingly voluminous. Much of it is shipboard fabrication units, intended to build more terraforming equipment and factories. But even Warden's AI and its attendant robots and androids wouldn't recognize a mysterious collection of machinery scattered unobtrusively throughout the equipment logged on Warden's manifest. What this equipment is and where it came from - and why it does not register on Warden's sensors - are all mysteries awaiting a time when the deck is again accessible.
Next: Part 14: Deck 2: Wilderness Deck
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 12: Deck 4: Water Deck
There is a calm serenity to be found on this deck. The visitor will immediately be taken by the expanse of water stretching off into simulated horizons, with the occasional brief rainstorm breaking the monotony. Islands can be seen scattered about, with seabirds wheeling about them. Midway through the deck, a great transparent partition separates the deck into two lakes; even now, holo-infographics label one half as the freshwater preserve, the other being for saltwater. Below the surface, the partition simulates upthrust subaquatic mountains, designed to keep the inhabitants from swimming into the partition. Above, a simulated blue sky delivers gentle breezes that caress the peaceful-seeming islands. There is a calm about the place that evokes a feeling of eternity, as though a part of the primal ocean of Earth has been sent out among the stars.
When Warden was still fully operational, deck four was among the most popular recreation areas on the ship. The islands were sculpted to resemble various Earthly islands in miniature, from Hawaii to the windswept, cool isles of the northern latitudes. Resorts and small harbors drew the majority of the visitors. The flora and fauna of the islands was varied, with their main similarity being their attractiveness to human sensibilities. Below the waves, the ecosystem was even more diverse, attracting divers. It was Warden's permanent vacation spot.
Yet deck four was not only for fun. It was the ship's main water reservoir, with great pumps providing water when and where it was needed. Fortunately, each deck was designed to be self-sufficient, so while deck four saw its reserves tapped occasionally, it was mostly intended as a wildlife preserve and basis for planetside aquatic ecoforming. Robotic mining shuttles would explore surrounding space to find sources of water ice, or hydrogen and oxygen, to replenish any water that was lost due to unforeseen emergencies. The great war that raged across all decks of the ship saw all manner of violence, including the flushing of huge amounts of water from decks in order to break sieges or punish enemies, so Warden's mining shuttles saw more use than their builders ever imagined. In fact, even now they are still trying to bring the water content of the ship back to its initial levels. Still, deck four remained serene and timeless, its waters so vast that even the losses could not truly be felt here.
The radiation that engulfed the ship did little obvious damage here. Water absorbed and blocked much of it. Still, enough of it was strong enough to penetrate deep within the lakes, subtly mutating a number of species. The jetpikes streak through the depths, staying well clear of the massive philosopher-sharks. Lullaby coral sends out its gentle susurration, luring in prey to be absorbed, while the hula-kelp entrances viewers with its hypnotic subsurface dance. From somewhere within the unlighted depths, a strange keening song can be heard, the source ever-elusive, with the voice burrowing into the mind of the listener. The song causes an emotional void to be felt in the victim, pulling them ever deeper. The radiation did not create the bizarre menagerie of other decks, but there seems to be a waiting intelligence here, cold, new, and curious.
Next: Part 13: Deck 3: Cargo Deck
When Warden was still fully operational, deck four was among the most popular recreation areas on the ship. The islands were sculpted to resemble various Earthly islands in miniature, from Hawaii to the windswept, cool isles of the northern latitudes. Resorts and small harbors drew the majority of the visitors. The flora and fauna of the islands was varied, with their main similarity being their attractiveness to human sensibilities. Below the waves, the ecosystem was even more diverse, attracting divers. It was Warden's permanent vacation spot.
Yet deck four was not only for fun. It was the ship's main water reservoir, with great pumps providing water when and where it was needed. Fortunately, each deck was designed to be self-sufficient, so while deck four saw its reserves tapped occasionally, it was mostly intended as a wildlife preserve and basis for planetside aquatic ecoforming. Robotic mining shuttles would explore surrounding space to find sources of water ice, or hydrogen and oxygen, to replenish any water that was lost due to unforeseen emergencies. The great war that raged across all decks of the ship saw all manner of violence, including the flushing of huge amounts of water from decks in order to break sieges or punish enemies, so Warden's mining shuttles saw more use than their builders ever imagined. In fact, even now they are still trying to bring the water content of the ship back to its initial levels. Still, deck four remained serene and timeless, its waters so vast that even the losses could not truly be felt here.
The radiation that engulfed the ship did little obvious damage here. Water absorbed and blocked much of it. Still, enough of it was strong enough to penetrate deep within the lakes, subtly mutating a number of species. The jetpikes streak through the depths, staying well clear of the massive philosopher-sharks. Lullaby coral sends out its gentle susurration, luring in prey to be absorbed, while the hula-kelp entrances viewers with its hypnotic subsurface dance. From somewhere within the unlighted depths, a strange keening song can be heard, the source ever-elusive, with the voice burrowing into the mind of the listener. The song causes an emotional void to be felt in the victim, pulling them ever deeper. The radiation did not create the bizarre menagerie of other decks, but there seems to be a waiting intelligence here, cold, new, and curious.
Next: Part 13: Deck 3: Cargo Deck
Sunday, August 14, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 11: Deck 5: Ranch Deck
Dusty prairies, sprawling ranches, and the distant lowing murmur of cattle all form the first impressions of visitors to deck five. Herds of what appear to be cattle, sheep, bison, and other, less-easily identifiable creatures blanket swathes of the deck's grasslands. Riding herd upon these great throngs are what seem to be riders of the ancient cowboy mold. But the closer a stranger gets to these herds and their tenders, the less familiar they become.
An array of mankind's domesticated animals was brought aboard Warden to provide a genetic pool from which to draw the DNA necessary to replicate meat.The plan was to select from these herds and flocks to supplement the stored genetic material, to provide variety in bloodlines and to ensure healthy, viable stock. Numbers were kept low, relative to the vast swarms of the ancient slaughterhouse days. A spectrum of non-domesticated animals, including predators, was carefully constructed to provide a sustainable ecosystem. The crew and passengers with an interest in animal husbandry and ranching found the deck to be an idyllic, if sleepy, place.
And then the radiation disaster struck Warden.
Gripped in the throes of accelerated mutation and made a battleground between mutants and crew, deck five became anything but sleepy. Factions formed among the inhabitants of the ranch deck, absorbing those mutants and crew who decided to take a stand.
The Ranchers are classic cowboys, all spring-steel and rawhide, laconic and respectful to those who show respect in return. Fiercely protective of their chosen herds, they are quick on the draw against any attackers, their "hog-legs" barking out prairie justice. "One riot, one Rancher," a saying goes, dredged up from an ancient past. These throwbacks to a rugged time would be right at home in Texas or Montana, were it not for the fact that they are centaurs. The ultimate melding of man and mount came during the great chaos that overwhelmed Warden, and may well be the result of a shard of Warden's AI being either too literal when directed to create "horsemen" for the deck's security, or having a warped sense of humor when devising guardians for the herds. However they came to be, the Ranchers are generally a force for good on the deck.
The Rustlers are the sworn enemies of the Ranchers. Made up of bizarre mobs of mutant animals, from massive razorback-and-snout hogs and slippery coyotes to the Unhangables and even some non-mutated humans, the backbone of the Rustlers are hulking amalgams of bulls and humans, instantly recognizable as minotaurs as depicted in ancient Greek mythology. Vicious, bullying, evil, and carnivorous, the Rustlers enslave any whom they can steal away from the Ranchers. The Rustlers are nomadic, never settling long in any one area. The more peaceful folk of the deck dread the appearance of a band of Rustlers. But, secretly, the Rustlers dread the appearance of a Rancher.
The Cattle are just that: the herd animals and livestock. But it's not that simple. There are still large numbers of non-mutated stock, but there are increasing numbers of mutants. Hellcows and lightning bulls dominate some herds, while a surprising number of fully sentient animals have grown in prominence over the years. Contemplative ducks, preening chickens, and panic goats cluster in small towns, their courage and resolve in adversity tending to melt without the presence of a Rancher or seven.
Next: Part 12: Deck 4: Water Deck
An array of mankind's domesticated animals was brought aboard Warden to provide a genetic pool from which to draw the DNA necessary to replicate meat.The plan was to select from these herds and flocks to supplement the stored genetic material, to provide variety in bloodlines and to ensure healthy, viable stock. Numbers were kept low, relative to the vast swarms of the ancient slaughterhouse days. A spectrum of non-domesticated animals, including predators, was carefully constructed to provide a sustainable ecosystem. The crew and passengers with an interest in animal husbandry and ranching found the deck to be an idyllic, if sleepy, place.
And then the radiation disaster struck Warden.
Gripped in the throes of accelerated mutation and made a battleground between mutants and crew, deck five became anything but sleepy. Factions formed among the inhabitants of the ranch deck, absorbing those mutants and crew who decided to take a stand.
The Ranchers are classic cowboys, all spring-steel and rawhide, laconic and respectful to those who show respect in return. Fiercely protective of their chosen herds, they are quick on the draw against any attackers, their "hog-legs" barking out prairie justice. "One riot, one Rancher," a saying goes, dredged up from an ancient past. These throwbacks to a rugged time would be right at home in Texas or Montana, were it not for the fact that they are centaurs. The ultimate melding of man and mount came during the great chaos that overwhelmed Warden, and may well be the result of a shard of Warden's AI being either too literal when directed to create "horsemen" for the deck's security, or having a warped sense of humor when devising guardians for the herds. However they came to be, the Ranchers are generally a force for good on the deck.
The Rustlers are the sworn enemies of the Ranchers. Made up of bizarre mobs of mutant animals, from massive razorback-and-snout hogs and slippery coyotes to the Unhangables and even some non-mutated humans, the backbone of the Rustlers are hulking amalgams of bulls and humans, instantly recognizable as minotaurs as depicted in ancient Greek mythology. Vicious, bullying, evil, and carnivorous, the Rustlers enslave any whom they can steal away from the Ranchers. The Rustlers are nomadic, never settling long in any one area. The more peaceful folk of the deck dread the appearance of a band of Rustlers. But, secretly, the Rustlers dread the appearance of a Rancher.
The Cattle are just that: the herd animals and livestock. But it's not that simple. There are still large numbers of non-mutated stock, but there are increasing numbers of mutants. Hellcows and lightning bulls dominate some herds, while a surprising number of fully sentient animals have grown in prominence over the years. Contemplative ducks, preening chickens, and panic goats cluster in small towns, their courage and resolve in adversity tending to melt without the presence of a Rancher or seven.
Next: Part 12: Deck 4: Water Deck
Monday, July 25, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 10: Deck 6A: The Tick Shallop
In absolute terms, the Tick Shallop is an enormous vessel. A kilometer long and half-a-kilometer wide at the beam, it would be imposing to most space navy vessels. But against the vast hulk of the Warden, the Tick Shallop isn't just dwarfed, it is rendered tiny. The AI-bestowed name given the vessel - its real name unknown and unknowable - is especially appropriate, with the alien ship attached like a parasite to some great beast. The great spike and strange tentacles that can occasionally be seen in the sky of deck six belong to the Tick Shallop.
Sometime during the chaos that erupted within the Warden, an unknown species of intelligent beings encountered the generation ship as it lumbered on its trackless journey. Extending an enormous burrowing spike from its bow, the mysterious vessel plunged into Warden's metallic hide. Bizarre phased-matter tentacles snaked from ports on the intruding ship, gripping Warden's side and rending the hull as it sought an even more unbreakable hold. All this is known by pure circumstantial evidence. Who the aliens were, or are, why they sought to invade the Warden, and what became of them is all completely unknown.
Try as it might, even Warden's now-united AI cannot find any record of the Tick Shallop's arrival, or what became of any crew that might have been on it. All attempts to hack into the intruder's computer systems have not been simply rebuffed, but have met with no evidence there is even a computer system of any kind to be hacked. Minidrones and avatar AI constructs have managed to find entrance to the mystery ship via a spiral hatch at the end of the intrusive spike. However, only certain portions are accessible; multiple compartments are easily entered, but measurements of interior spaces and the Tick Shallop's overall size provide conflicting results...and those results often change, as though the vessel changes interior size and mass. The compartments within the Tick Shallop are all smooth, rounded fixtures, made of seamless metal that defies analysis. Silver in color and silky in feel, the metal is often pleasantly warm to the touch, at other times unnervingly pliable. It is evident the alien ship is a product of a civilization with a technology base far beyond that of Warden's.
As much as the main AI of Warden is troubled by this strange invader, the renegade shards of the AI are more concerned. The most far-flung shards, inhabiting isolated satellites, distant mining bases, and outer-system listening posts, are plagued with flickering images in their memories. These glimpses are like waking dreams, and seem to quietly call to these fragments of Warden's computer system, coaxing them to reunite; at first blush, it is simply Warden's AI calling its rogue children home. But the shards farthest away from Warden catch a glimpse within the glimpses, of a cold intelligence unknown to them. Perhaps the alien vessel has found a way to ride upon Warden's transmissions. Or, perhaps, the alien invasion of Warden goes far beyond either its communications or deck six.
Next: Part 11: Deck 5: Ranch Deck
Sometime during the chaos that erupted within the Warden, an unknown species of intelligent beings encountered the generation ship as it lumbered on its trackless journey. Extending an enormous burrowing spike from its bow, the mysterious vessel plunged into Warden's metallic hide. Bizarre phased-matter tentacles snaked from ports on the intruding ship, gripping Warden's side and rending the hull as it sought an even more unbreakable hold. All this is known by pure circumstantial evidence. Who the aliens were, or are, why they sought to invade the Warden, and what became of them is all completely unknown.
Try as it might, even Warden's now-united AI cannot find any record of the Tick Shallop's arrival, or what became of any crew that might have been on it. All attempts to hack into the intruder's computer systems have not been simply rebuffed, but have met with no evidence there is even a computer system of any kind to be hacked. Minidrones and avatar AI constructs have managed to find entrance to the mystery ship via a spiral hatch at the end of the intrusive spike. However, only certain portions are accessible; multiple compartments are easily entered, but measurements of interior spaces and the Tick Shallop's overall size provide conflicting results...and those results often change, as though the vessel changes interior size and mass. The compartments within the Tick Shallop are all smooth, rounded fixtures, made of seamless metal that defies analysis. Silver in color and silky in feel, the metal is often pleasantly warm to the touch, at other times unnervingly pliable. It is evident the alien ship is a product of a civilization with a technology base far beyond that of Warden's.
As much as the main AI of Warden is troubled by this strange invader, the renegade shards of the AI are more concerned. The most far-flung shards, inhabiting isolated satellites, distant mining bases, and outer-system listening posts, are plagued with flickering images in their memories. These glimpses are like waking dreams, and seem to quietly call to these fragments of Warden's computer system, coaxing them to reunite; at first blush, it is simply Warden's AI calling its rogue children home. But the shards farthest away from Warden catch a glimpse within the glimpses, of a cold intelligence unknown to them. Perhaps the alien vessel has found a way to ride upon Warden's transmissions. Or, perhaps, the alien invasion of Warden goes far beyond either its communications or deck six.
Next: Part 11: Deck 5: Ranch Deck
Saturday, July 23, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 9: Deck 6: Jungle Deck
Warden's "Jungle Deck" was meant as a haven for the most vibrant flora of Earth, where the ship's atmospheric equipment could be supplemented by the abundant oxygen-producing plants of the planet's most lush rainforests. Deck 6 still serves that purpose to this day, the radiation that affected so much of Warden's life, both natural and mechanical, leaving much of the ecosystem here untouched or subtly altered. The deck was designed to accommodate a variety of rainforests, from the cool/temperate pine forests of Earth's Pacific Northwest towards the bow-end of the deck, to the humid jungles of equatorial Africa and the Amazon towards the stern. Innovative climate controls make the transition between such zones gradual, with holographic imagery and subsonic warning tones subtly directing the fauna to stay within their ecosections.
The vast majority of the nonsentient plants on this deck are much as their Earthly counterparts are, or were, with the mutations that are present more akin to what might have occurred naturally on Earth, if accelerated. The fauna is similarly only lightly touched by mutations, though "lightly touched" is very much a comparative statement; compared to human/animal hybrids and plasma-shooting appendages, gigantism and devolution in some species is almost normal-seeming. During the turmoil that gripped the ship for centuries, plants that had developed intelligence migrated to this deck, effectively claiming it as their domain.
Though the major civilization here, such as it is, is flora-centric, there is an abundance of fauna, including tribes of humans and mutants. Most intelligent plants here are not necessarily hostile, or even unfriendly, to humans or animals, but most are decidedly neutral to them, much as normal plants are...until any type of wholesale logging or clear-cutting of plants is attempted. The few times this happened, the sentient plants worked as a collective to wipe out the offending parties. Beyond such circumstances, and the generally rare - though growing in number - carnivorous plants that do exist here, most ambulatory animal life only has other such life to fear.
There are a number of cultures present on the deck. Most are among the intelligent plants, ranging from the somber, gloomy Brotherhood of the Pines of the cooler climes to the riotous Tangle of Life in the torrid regions. Most have no interest in the affairs of the "animals," as most non-plant life is called. Whether it's the quiet commiseration of the ancient conifers or the constant debates about the cycle of life among the stately deciduous trees or the anarchic "live in the now" mindset of the plants in the hottest jungles, the conversations are almost never inclusive of non-plants.
The relatively rare human and humanoid cultures are a bit less apathetic or xenophobic. Still, that often translates into attacking newcomers rather than ignoring them. A variety of non-plant tribal societies have come and gone as the centuries have gone by. At the moment, two notable human, or, at least, human-like cultures live on deck six: the Servants of the Eye and the Ashintins.
The Servants of the Eye are a matriarchal society, with the women of the culture of much greater comparative stature than the men. Dubbed "Amazons" by some visitors to the deck, they reject most such labels and, in addition, most influence by anyone from outside their culture. Content to live in a stone-age level of development, they would offer very little in the way of problems with most who end up on this deck...except for one important aspect of their society: technophobia. Any and all high-tech items, including robots and androids, are sought out by the Servants of the Eye to be used as sacrifices. Those items they cannot acquire in trade, they will take by force. They have also developed surprisingly effective tactics for taking down robots. Items that are nonfunctioning at the time the Servants of the Eye encounter them will be considered deactivated, and not suffer the rather crude means the Servants use to render such objects inert. Once deactivated, any and all items are placed at the altar of the ceremonial temple of the Servants of the Eye. The altar lays before the small, ancient hut that houses the Eye itself, a meter-wide circle in the ground that contains a deep black field spangled and frosted with a myriad of lights. Here is where the shaman of the Servants comes to commune with the god of their tribe, staring deeply into that strange darkness for hours on end, watching as the the lights gradually move. Of course, the more technological viewers will recognize this as an observation port, though why it is on the floor is a mystery created by long-dead engineers and shipbuilders. The Eye is sacred to the Servants, as is the assembled sacrificial technology that is arranged before it. Under no circumstances will the Servants of the Eye willingly part with any item they have sacrificed, and will only trade food for items possessed by others.
The other culture, the Ashintins, are something of an enigma. Few in number, they range all about the Warden, though their home base, a modest and humble treehouse monastery built of logs in a cool, quiet area of the ship, is located here on deck six. The Ashintins are a group that is based upon the ideal of peaceful coexistence among all life, mutated, non-mutated, plant, or animal. They wander the ship, spreading their words of peace. They are not entirely pacifists, as they are willing to defend themselves, but their reputations are now so widespread that they are rarely attacked, and are often welcome most places they go. Though many travel alone, some groups have been encountered, consisting of mutated and non-mutated intelligent creatures, serving as a tangible example of their philosophy. There have been dark rumors about the ultimate motives of the Ashintins, but little besides paranoid speculation to back up those rumors.
The deck has an endless feel to it, the bulkhead walls disguised with yet more subtle holograms and subsonic tones. The effect upon those who manage to acquire a view from on high, such as by climbing into the upper canopy, is almost vertiginous in its apparent infinite expanse of green under skies that vary from deep blue to thunderhead black. The sharp-eyed and patient viewer, though, may eventually glimpse an unsettling vista of a great spike and metallic tentacles protruding from the sky in a certain region, which flicker and vanish, leaving the sky once again as it was.
Next: Part 10: Deck 6A: The Tick Shallop
The vast majority of the nonsentient plants on this deck are much as their Earthly counterparts are, or were, with the mutations that are present more akin to what might have occurred naturally on Earth, if accelerated. The fauna is similarly only lightly touched by mutations, though "lightly touched" is very much a comparative statement; compared to human/animal hybrids and plasma-shooting appendages, gigantism and devolution in some species is almost normal-seeming. During the turmoil that gripped the ship for centuries, plants that had developed intelligence migrated to this deck, effectively claiming it as their domain.
Though the major civilization here, such as it is, is flora-centric, there is an abundance of fauna, including tribes of humans and mutants. Most intelligent plants here are not necessarily hostile, or even unfriendly, to humans or animals, but most are decidedly neutral to them, much as normal plants are...until any type of wholesale logging or clear-cutting of plants is attempted. The few times this happened, the sentient plants worked as a collective to wipe out the offending parties. Beyond such circumstances, and the generally rare - though growing in number - carnivorous plants that do exist here, most ambulatory animal life only has other such life to fear.
There are a number of cultures present on the deck. Most are among the intelligent plants, ranging from the somber, gloomy Brotherhood of the Pines of the cooler climes to the riotous Tangle of Life in the torrid regions. Most have no interest in the affairs of the "animals," as most non-plant life is called. Whether it's the quiet commiseration of the ancient conifers or the constant debates about the cycle of life among the stately deciduous trees or the anarchic "live in the now" mindset of the plants in the hottest jungles, the conversations are almost never inclusive of non-plants.
The relatively rare human and humanoid cultures are a bit less apathetic or xenophobic. Still, that often translates into attacking newcomers rather than ignoring them. A variety of non-plant tribal societies have come and gone as the centuries have gone by. At the moment, two notable human, or, at least, human-like cultures live on deck six: the Servants of the Eye and the Ashintins.
The Servants of the Eye are a matriarchal society, with the women of the culture of much greater comparative stature than the men. Dubbed "Amazons" by some visitors to the deck, they reject most such labels and, in addition, most influence by anyone from outside their culture. Content to live in a stone-age level of development, they would offer very little in the way of problems with most who end up on this deck...except for one important aspect of their society: technophobia. Any and all high-tech items, including robots and androids, are sought out by the Servants of the Eye to be used as sacrifices. Those items they cannot acquire in trade, they will take by force. They have also developed surprisingly effective tactics for taking down robots. Items that are nonfunctioning at the time the Servants of the Eye encounter them will be considered deactivated, and not suffer the rather crude means the Servants use to render such objects inert. Once deactivated, any and all items are placed at the altar of the ceremonial temple of the Servants of the Eye. The altar lays before the small, ancient hut that houses the Eye itself, a meter-wide circle in the ground that contains a deep black field spangled and frosted with a myriad of lights. Here is where the shaman of the Servants comes to commune with the god of their tribe, staring deeply into that strange darkness for hours on end, watching as the the lights gradually move. Of course, the more technological viewers will recognize this as an observation port, though why it is on the floor is a mystery created by long-dead engineers and shipbuilders. The Eye is sacred to the Servants, as is the assembled sacrificial technology that is arranged before it. Under no circumstances will the Servants of the Eye willingly part with any item they have sacrificed, and will only trade food for items possessed by others.
The other culture, the Ashintins, are something of an enigma. Few in number, they range all about the Warden, though their home base, a modest and humble treehouse monastery built of logs in a cool, quiet area of the ship, is located here on deck six. The Ashintins are a group that is based upon the ideal of peaceful coexistence among all life, mutated, non-mutated, plant, or animal. They wander the ship, spreading their words of peace. They are not entirely pacifists, as they are willing to defend themselves, but their reputations are now so widespread that they are rarely attacked, and are often welcome most places they go. Though many travel alone, some groups have been encountered, consisting of mutated and non-mutated intelligent creatures, serving as a tangible example of their philosophy. There have been dark rumors about the ultimate motives of the Ashintins, but little besides paranoid speculation to back up those rumors.
The deck has an endless feel to it, the bulkhead walls disguised with yet more subtle holograms and subsonic tones. The effect upon those who manage to acquire a view from on high, such as by climbing into the upper canopy, is almost vertiginous in its apparent infinite expanse of green under skies that vary from deep blue to thunderhead black. The sharp-eyed and patient viewer, though, may eventually glimpse an unsettling vista of a great spike and metallic tentacles protruding from the sky in a certain region, which flicker and vanish, leaving the sky once again as it was.
Next: Part 10: Deck 6A: The Tick Shallop
Monday, July 4, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 8: Deck 7: Farm Deck
A swath of gently rolling farmland stretches out before those who venture onto this deck. Vivid red barns sturdily stand out from the vibrant green. Warm, simulated sunlight bathes the bucolic scene, punctuated at times by gentle showers. In the distant fields can be seen children playing on haywagons and bearded old farmers driving animal-drawn harvesters. Dusty roads link quaint farmhouses, with wagons, buggies, and barefoot farmfolk moving about.
Squat brick processing and distribution buildings sit unobtrusively at regular intervals on the roads. Laden wagons come to them to unload the produce that seems so readily grown on this deck. The only jarring sight are the ominous guard-bots that patrol the areas around these buildings. The farmers ignore them, treating them as just another part of the land. Intruders, though, will find themselves the focus of attention of these mechanical sentinels, their targeting beams and stern demands for unauthorized personnel to stand by and await questioning obvious warnings. The buildings are inviolable without the highest security clearance.
Deck 7 is Warden's breadbasket. As slow-moving as things seem here, there is an undercurrent of unceasing activity. Fertilizer and other nutrients are piped in, constantly enriching the soil via flexi-conduits beneath the soil. A rich microscopic ecosystem is maintained in that soil by GMOles and loamworms specifically engineered to keep the croplands fertile and the crops growing. And grow the crops do; the cutting edge of plant gene-splicing and DNA manipulation has brought about crops that go from germination to harvestable maturity in hours.
Mutant, intelligent plants who find themselves on this deck feel an immediate, unfocused sense of doom. The ecomaintenance system on this deck quickly and automatically assesses each plant it detects, and sets about bringing it into a state of harvestability. The longer a mutant plant remains here, the more likely it becomes that it finds itself genetically manipulated by nanites into a crop plant, non-sentient and irretrievably lost. Some few plants have been able to resist, most notably the mortomatoes, hiding amongst the crops and multiplying, becoming insane predators with a hatred for anything alive on this deck.
The farmfolk here, as inoffensive as they seem at first blush, have also been as affected by the chaos on Warden as any other group. The initial radiation disaster and the subsequent wars killed many, and the survivors became deeply distrustful of mutants of any kind. Even those mutations that manifest within their own ranks are subject to exile or, in some rare cases, death. The people here may seem laconic and slow to act, but they are constantly observing. Any evidence of mutations will be met with anitpathy at best, and open hostility at worst. But there is hope. There is rumored to be a mutant underground here, with the outcasts and exiles of the farmfolk setting up their own communities that look much the same as any others. Those with mutations that are not immediately obvious go to deal with the communities of the non-mutated, sometimes even living with them. There, they subtly attempt to change the hearts and minds away from xenophobia. Any such infiltrators face horrific punishment if found out.
Next: Part 9: Deck 6: Jungle Deck
Squat brick processing and distribution buildings sit unobtrusively at regular intervals on the roads. Laden wagons come to them to unload the produce that seems so readily grown on this deck. The only jarring sight are the ominous guard-bots that patrol the areas around these buildings. The farmers ignore them, treating them as just another part of the land. Intruders, though, will find themselves the focus of attention of these mechanical sentinels, their targeting beams and stern demands for unauthorized personnel to stand by and await questioning obvious warnings. The buildings are inviolable without the highest security clearance.
Deck 7 is Warden's breadbasket. As slow-moving as things seem here, there is an undercurrent of unceasing activity. Fertilizer and other nutrients are piped in, constantly enriching the soil via flexi-conduits beneath the soil. A rich microscopic ecosystem is maintained in that soil by GMOles and loamworms specifically engineered to keep the croplands fertile and the crops growing. And grow the crops do; the cutting edge of plant gene-splicing and DNA manipulation has brought about crops that go from germination to harvestable maturity in hours.
Mutant, intelligent plants who find themselves on this deck feel an immediate, unfocused sense of doom. The ecomaintenance system on this deck quickly and automatically assesses each plant it detects, and sets about bringing it into a state of harvestability. The longer a mutant plant remains here, the more likely it becomes that it finds itself genetically manipulated by nanites into a crop plant, non-sentient and irretrievably lost. Some few plants have been able to resist, most notably the mortomatoes, hiding amongst the crops and multiplying, becoming insane predators with a hatred for anything alive on this deck.
The farmfolk here, as inoffensive as they seem at first blush, have also been as affected by the chaos on Warden as any other group. The initial radiation disaster and the subsequent wars killed many, and the survivors became deeply distrustful of mutants of any kind. Even those mutations that manifest within their own ranks are subject to exile or, in some rare cases, death. The people here may seem laconic and slow to act, but they are constantly observing. Any evidence of mutations will be met with anitpathy at best, and open hostility at worst. But there is hope. There is rumored to be a mutant underground here, with the outcasts and exiles of the farmfolk setting up their own communities that look much the same as any others. Those with mutations that are not immediately obvious go to deal with the communities of the non-mutated, sometimes even living with them. There, they subtly attempt to change the hearts and minds away from xenophobia. Any such infiltrators face horrific punishment if found out.
Next: Part 9: Deck 6: Jungle Deck
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 7: Deck 8A: Warden's Engine Room
A vessel as improbably large as Warden could only be propelled to fractions of the speed of light by equally improbable engines. The mighty thorium-fusion engines that are the thundering heart of Warden are accessed at the aft end of deck 8. A complex of engineering stations, machine shops, laboratories, and crew quarters lay within the bulkhead immediately before and around the six power units and the three outboard vents that focus the propulsive force they provide. These not only provide Warden with its ability to move, but also the energy to maintain all shipboard activities. And that energy is staggering in its volume.
Warden's engines were a modified version of the power plants that had been developed to provide the power for much of the Earth. Each engine has the potential to provide the energy for large nations; all six together could keep the lights on for entire continents. It had been intended that Warden would provide its colonies with power via broadcast energy until they became self-sufficient. At the moment, the engines are set at their lowest levels, having powered down after braking into orbit around Xi Ursae Majoris.
Such massive power was necessary to provide motive force for a ship of Warden's size in normal space, especially because it needed to reach relativistic speeds to reach its destination before too many generations had passed within the ship. Theoretical models and field experiments had been on the verge of breakthroughs in faster-than-light propulsion during the construction of Warden and her sister ships, but those breakthroughs remained tantalizingly out of reach. Warden's engineering personnel and the scientists in the universities and labs in the citydomes kept in constant contact with their counterparts on Earth, gleaning any and all information on FTL travel that could be sent their way...until Earth went silent. Still, the minds aboard Warden felt that they could one day harness the great engines of the ship for an even greater ability to travel between the stars. And then, Warden fell into chaos.
In Warden's engine section, engineers, physicists, and the robots and androids that served them held their ground valiantly as armies of mutants swept through the ship. To lose the engine room was to lose all hope for the ship's complement. So fanatically did the engineering crew hold its section of the ship, that eventually all else faded into memory, and then even the memory faded.
The engines became the center of their world, the source of light and life. They took to bathing themselves in the radiation of those holy energy sources, hoping for and accepting any judgment their now-god passed onto them. Illness and death were considered punishment for transgressions; beneficial mutations were the blessings conferred for exemplary existence. This is the world of the Brotherhood of the Divine Radiance. Any intruders are subjected to the judgment of the engines. The Brotherhood awaits the divine word of the Captain, the Prophet of the Engines, the only rightful leader. Until then, the engines are maintained and protected, as to do otherwise is to bring on the end.
Next: Part 8: Deck 7: Farm Deck
Warden's engines were a modified version of the power plants that had been developed to provide the power for much of the Earth. Each engine has the potential to provide the energy for large nations; all six together could keep the lights on for entire continents. It had been intended that Warden would provide its colonies with power via broadcast energy until they became self-sufficient. At the moment, the engines are set at their lowest levels, having powered down after braking into orbit around Xi Ursae Majoris.
Such massive power was necessary to provide motive force for a ship of Warden's size in normal space, especially because it needed to reach relativistic speeds to reach its destination before too many generations had passed within the ship. Theoretical models and field experiments had been on the verge of breakthroughs in faster-than-light propulsion during the construction of Warden and her sister ships, but those breakthroughs remained tantalizingly out of reach. Warden's engineering personnel and the scientists in the universities and labs in the citydomes kept in constant contact with their counterparts on Earth, gleaning any and all information on FTL travel that could be sent their way...until Earth went silent. Still, the minds aboard Warden felt that they could one day harness the great engines of the ship for an even greater ability to travel between the stars. And then, Warden fell into chaos.
In Warden's engine section, engineers, physicists, and the robots and androids that served them held their ground valiantly as armies of mutants swept through the ship. To lose the engine room was to lose all hope for the ship's complement. So fanatically did the engineering crew hold its section of the ship, that eventually all else faded into memory, and then even the memory faded.
The engines became the center of their world, the source of light and life. They took to bathing themselves in the radiation of those holy energy sources, hoping for and accepting any judgment their now-god passed onto them. Illness and death were considered punishment for transgressions; beneficial mutations were the blessings conferred for exemplary existence. This is the world of the Brotherhood of the Divine Radiance. Any intruders are subjected to the judgment of the engines. The Brotherhood awaits the divine word of the Captain, the Prophet of the Engines, the only rightful leader. Until then, the engines are maintained and protected, as to do otherwise is to bring on the end.
Next: Part 8: Deck 7: Farm Deck
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 6: Deck 8: Factory Deck
Thick humidity, tropical heat, an overwhelming smell of living things, and a cacophony of sounds from birds, animals, and plants assault the senses of those who venture onto this deck. This is Warden's Factory Deck, an odd name for a space that seems far removed from industry.
The genesis of this equatorial-like biome occurred sometime during the madness after Warden was beset by the radiation that altered so much on the ship.Tropical flora and fauna that had been brought to the deck for recreational areas began to displace the neat lawns and small parks that had once been the norm. The shattered AI adjusted the climate to accommodate, nudging the heat and humidity higher and higher as the jungles and grasslands overran the entire deck.
Once, this deck had been the chief manufacturing section of Warden. Factories were regularly placed in pleasant industrial parkways. The workers who produced everything from holograph-chips to megadroids lived in a great, terraced city built against the forward bulkhead of Warden. It was an idyllic life, with the permanent residents here content and stimulated.
That all ended long ago. Chaos reigned after the radiation disaster, with mass death, subsequent plagues and mutations, and multiple wars and skirmishes laying waste to the population. The change in climate and ecosystem, which, while gradual, was still strangely speedy, overwhelmed the deck with a riotous spectrum of strange life. The factories were at first kept running at a limited capacity with robots and a dwindling handful of workers and their descendants. As living workers eventually became impossible to find, the factories eventually ground to a production halt.
A shard of the AI finally noticed its army of robots and androids was suffering attrition it could not replace. Sending in what mechanical forces it could muster, the AI reopened the factories. Not all, certainly, but the ones directly necessary for further android and robot production. Once production had resumed, the activity attracted the notice of remnants of the various warring factions that once dominated so much of the ship. One final battle was fought, with mutants and robots struggling claw-to-manipulator for control of production. It was nearly a Pyrrhic victory for the AI. The last vestiges of the mutant army were destroyed, but a scant score of robots and androids remained. It was a long, slow, and, if the AI and its mechanical minions had been able to feel physical sensation, painful rebuilding of forces. The AI shard had no access to the climate controls on the deck, so the climate was almost as implacable a foe as the mutants. The pervasive humidity and a strangely-mutated fungus that feeds on synthetic materials made simple maintenance on machines a constant meticulous necessity. But even with these obstacles, as well as the random mutant animals and plants that choose to prey on machines, the AI shard has been able to bring android and robot production back to a respectable level...and the AI did not skimp on the building of warbots needed to guard the factories.
Beyond the AI-controlled factories is a thronging wilderness, with dense rainforests and teeming savannas home to a rich array of life. Malevolent blur-lions prey upon the retromastodon herds on the grassy plains, while in the jungles the oranguborgs war with the vinelords and their robotic allies. The abandoned factories are now completely overgrown, appearing as green-covered hills on the landscape, but still possessed of artifacts of the past deep within their vine-covered walls. The once-gleaming city that had been home and haven to humans in the forgotten past is now a vast stepped garden on the surface, with the inner dwelling-places a shadowed maze of lost technological treasures and lurking death. Over the entire deck is a thick, suffocating atmosphere and a constantly encroaching layer of growing and grasping life.
Next: Part 7: Deck 8A: Warden's Engine Room
The genesis of this equatorial-like biome occurred sometime during the madness after Warden was beset by the radiation that altered so much on the ship.Tropical flora and fauna that had been brought to the deck for recreational areas began to displace the neat lawns and small parks that had once been the norm. The shattered AI adjusted the climate to accommodate, nudging the heat and humidity higher and higher as the jungles and grasslands overran the entire deck.
Once, this deck had been the chief manufacturing section of Warden. Factories were regularly placed in pleasant industrial parkways. The workers who produced everything from holograph-chips to megadroids lived in a great, terraced city built against the forward bulkhead of Warden. It was an idyllic life, with the permanent residents here content and stimulated.
That all ended long ago. Chaos reigned after the radiation disaster, with mass death, subsequent plagues and mutations, and multiple wars and skirmishes laying waste to the population. The change in climate and ecosystem, which, while gradual, was still strangely speedy, overwhelmed the deck with a riotous spectrum of strange life. The factories were at first kept running at a limited capacity with robots and a dwindling handful of workers and their descendants. As living workers eventually became impossible to find, the factories eventually ground to a production halt.
A shard of the AI finally noticed its army of robots and androids was suffering attrition it could not replace. Sending in what mechanical forces it could muster, the AI reopened the factories. Not all, certainly, but the ones directly necessary for further android and robot production. Once production had resumed, the activity attracted the notice of remnants of the various warring factions that once dominated so much of the ship. One final battle was fought, with mutants and robots struggling claw-to-manipulator for control of production. It was nearly a Pyrrhic victory for the AI. The last vestiges of the mutant army were destroyed, but a scant score of robots and androids remained. It was a long, slow, and, if the AI and its mechanical minions had been able to feel physical sensation, painful rebuilding of forces. The AI shard had no access to the climate controls on the deck, so the climate was almost as implacable a foe as the mutants. The pervasive humidity and a strangely-mutated fungus that feeds on synthetic materials made simple maintenance on machines a constant meticulous necessity. But even with these obstacles, as well as the random mutant animals and plants that choose to prey on machines, the AI shard has been able to bring android and robot production back to a respectable level...and the AI did not skimp on the building of warbots needed to guard the factories.
Beyond the AI-controlled factories is a thronging wilderness, with dense rainforests and teeming savannas home to a rich array of life. Malevolent blur-lions prey upon the retromastodon herds on the grassy plains, while in the jungles the oranguborgs war with the vinelords and their robotic allies. The abandoned factories are now completely overgrown, appearing as green-covered hills on the landscape, but still possessed of artifacts of the past deep within their vine-covered walls. The once-gleaming city that had been home and haven to humans in the forgotten past is now a vast stepped garden on the surface, with the inner dwelling-places a shadowed maze of lost technological treasures and lurking death. Over the entire deck is a thick, suffocating atmosphere and a constantly encroaching layer of growing and grasping life.
Next: Part 7: Deck 8A: Warden's Engine Room
Monday, June 6, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 5: Deck 9: Cargo Deck
Warden's deck 9 is a vast supply station. There is a labyrinth of multi-story warehouses, freestanding shelving, pallets of material and equipment, open staging areas, bulkheads, and vast bulkhead doors. The place is in a perpetual gloom, with only minimal lighting needed in certain sections. All around come the sounds and smells of machinery on the go, with robotic lifts, cargo drones, heavy autonomous tractors, and a myriad of robots and androids going about the ceaseless business of keeping Warden supplied and running.
A number of loading docks and shuttle bays are placed regularly around the outer bulkheads of the deck. Extravehicular drones enter and exit through small portals, tending to the Warden's outer skin and equipment, as well as collecting any and all possible raw material that might be within range. Now that the great ship is within a stellar system, the big, ungainly cargo shuttles have awakened from a long machine slumber to begin gathering vast loads of heavy raw material, from metal ore to helium. Warden's bunkers begin to fill, though the pace has been slow without human supervision.
Within this machine world are havens of organic life. Horticultural stations, hydroponic labs, and zoological cloning samples in cryogenic storage units harbor specimens of plant and animal life essential for human existence. Unlike the vast preserves found on Warden's other decks, these various labs and stations contain specimens that are essentially unchanged by shipboard life. Or they were unchanged; Warden's radiation disaster altered a sizable percentage of the specimens on this deck. Incredibly unfortunate malfunctions allowed many of these strange mutations to be released, where they fled into the deck's shadowed industrial maze.
The most important cargo on this deck is contained in a series of medical stations and labs. Thousands of colonists were placed into suspended animation, and genetic samples of even more potential "colonists" were stored in these laboratory facilities. The radiation also hit these buildings, and many humans, including mutated humans, were somehow revived and released. Over the decades and centuries, strange tribal societies formed, roaming deck 9's dark recesses, battling strange plants and animals as well as each other. Cafeterias and break rooms, once used by the deck's long-gone human crew, became centers of contention, as they were supplied with edibles by food synthesizers and service robots. The chaos of the great mutant revolt only lightly affected this deck, as most sought to leave the deck for more hospitable environs. This left the stone-age society and monstrous inhabitants to war among themselves, with the majority of life here still sleeping dreamlessly in its cryo-pods.
Next: Part 6: Deck 8: Factory Deck
A number of loading docks and shuttle bays are placed regularly around the outer bulkheads of the deck. Extravehicular drones enter and exit through small portals, tending to the Warden's outer skin and equipment, as well as collecting any and all possible raw material that might be within range. Now that the great ship is within a stellar system, the big, ungainly cargo shuttles have awakened from a long machine slumber to begin gathering vast loads of heavy raw material, from metal ore to helium. Warden's bunkers begin to fill, though the pace has been slow without human supervision.
Within this machine world are havens of organic life. Horticultural stations, hydroponic labs, and zoological cloning samples in cryogenic storage units harbor specimens of plant and animal life essential for human existence. Unlike the vast preserves found on Warden's other decks, these various labs and stations contain specimens that are essentially unchanged by shipboard life. Or they were unchanged; Warden's radiation disaster altered a sizable percentage of the specimens on this deck. Incredibly unfortunate malfunctions allowed many of these strange mutations to be released, where they fled into the deck's shadowed industrial maze.
The most important cargo on this deck is contained in a series of medical stations and labs. Thousands of colonists were placed into suspended animation, and genetic samples of even more potential "colonists" were stored in these laboratory facilities. The radiation also hit these buildings, and many humans, including mutated humans, were somehow revived and released. Over the decades and centuries, strange tribal societies formed, roaming deck 9's dark recesses, battling strange plants and animals as well as each other. Cafeterias and break rooms, once used by the deck's long-gone human crew, became centers of contention, as they were supplied with edibles by food synthesizers and service robots. The chaos of the great mutant revolt only lightly affected this deck, as most sought to leave the deck for more hospitable environs. This left the stone-age society and monstrous inhabitants to war among themselves, with the majority of life here still sleeping dreamlessly in its cryo-pods.
Next: Part 6: Deck 8: Factory Deck
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Metamorphosis Alpha to Omega: Part 4: The Decks of the Warden
The Warden is a
vast slab of metal, ungainly yet somehow majestic. Within, there are nine main
decks and a labyrinth of interdeck passages, spaces, and sub-decks. Even the
outer hull of the great vessel is bristling with blisters, turrets, and domes
that are, in effect, their own decks. Lift tubes run to every part of the ship,
carrying passengers in small cars, traversing the length of the ship in
minutes. For shorter trips, ladder tubes and stairwells are located in many
locations. It may be vast, but Warden
was designed to be accessible. Accessible to those with the proper credentials,
that is.
The entrances to all these tubes and access ways are
airtight and kept sealed unless they are presented with authorization. In the
days of the original crew, this simply involved being recognized by the Warden’s omnipresent AI. Now, of course,
the AI recognizes a scant few authorized personnel, at least until the back-up
crew is on duty.
The majority of the life on Warden that is ambulatory and awake exists on its nine vast decks.
Each was designed to prevent space madness caused by the constant
claustrophobic knowledge that the world of the Warden was a relatively tiny mote in a great cosmic void.
Pains were taken to conceal the walls and ceiling of each inhabited
deck with appropriate holographic camouflage, giving the illusion of unlimited
room to move and a living, dynamic world. Of course, the original crew and
passengers were aware the Warden was
merely a ship, but the illusion helped ameliorate that. And ameliorate it the
camouflage did; very few cases of space madness ever manifested themselves.
The nine decks of the Warden each have their own function
and, where appropriate, ecology. After a number of traumatic centuries, though,
some of those functions and ecologies have changed, in some cases drastically.
 |
| The decks of the Starship Warden. The quality isn't great, but it gives you the general idea. |
Deck Nine is the main cargo space of Warden. A seemingly ceaseless maze of pallets, shelving,
warehouses, and horticultural stations, this entire deck hums with robotic
activity. Even during its most chaotic times, the ship’s autonomic routines
kept every area supplied with everything from foodstuffs to axel grease. In
addition, raw materials procured from beyond Warden’s confines are brought onboard here by robotic mining and
survey craft to be processed and stored. Most importantly to the ship’s
original mission, the bulk of the cryogenic storage facilities are located
here, housing genetic samples and full-grown specimens of humans, animals, and
plants. These facilities were hard-hit by the radiation the Warden passed through centuries ago,
decanting a stream of strangely mutated creatures.
Deck Eight is the factory deck, taking the raw materials of
deck nine and manufacturing all the complex parts, tools, machinery, and
automatons that kept the ship running. Sometime in the lost centuries, the deck
was overrun by tropical flora and fauna, and the ship’s AI adjusted the
atmosphere here to accommodate it. The resulting heat and thick humidity caused
the factories here to gradually break down, with Warden’s androids and robots working ‘round-the-clock to keep at
least a few of them online, if only to build more androids and robots. The city
built on this deck to house the factory workers has been long abandoned,
overgrown and rusting.
Deck Seven is the farm deck. One of the more climatically
pleasant decks, with rolling land and verdant green, spangled with quaint
farmhouses and processing plants built to look like old-fashioned barns. Though
it looks like a rustic idyll, this deck was as affected by the turmoil of the
past centuries as any, and intruders would do well to be on guard.
Deck Six is colloquially known as the jungle deck. In fact,
it is a rainforest deck, consisting of the thick green flora of equatorial
Africa and the Amazon, as well as the coniferous trees of the Pacific
Northwest. The ship’s enviro controls make the transition from a tropical
climate to a cooler temperate one gradual. This deck is riotous with life, the
most vibrant deck on the Warden. Intelligent plants have effectively claimed
this deck for their own, but animal life is abundant, including small tribal
cultures of intelligent species.
Also present on deck six, except from outside, is an alien
vessel that has attached itself to Warden
via a number of tendrils or tentacles that burrowed their way through the ship’s
massive metal side. Designated the Tick
Shallop by the Warden’s AI, this
vessel is a mystery. No record of its arrival, subsequent attachment, or the
presence of any crew can be found in the AI’s memory banks.
 |
| The Tick Shallop, mysterious alien intruder vessel attached to Warden's hull. |
Deck Five is the ranch deck. The livestock here – cattle,
swine, poultry, etc. – was intended as an alternative source of fresh genetic
stock. While the slaughter of animals for meat had long since been obviated by
the generation of meat via carno-replicators, there was still a call for
variation in the genetic material used for replication. Unfortunately, the
replicators and their genetic samples were particularly vulnerable to the
radiation belt the Warden passed
through. Now, the deck is overrun by strange amalgamations of humans and
horses, humanoid cattle, and intelligent forms of every type of animal to be
found on the deck, from pigs to ducks.
Deck Four is the water deck. Huge reservoirs of fresh and
salt water are found here, with the attendant purification and waste
reclamation equipment. While the source of the ship’s water, it is also a preserve
for various aquatic environments. There are also islands scattered in a
pleasant distribution. These are used as preserves for appropriate flora and
fauna, as well as recreation for the crew and passengers. While the water
helped serve as a barrier for a good part of the radiation that engulfed the Warden, there is still a spectrum of
mutations to be found here, though many are subtle and difficult to detect.
Deck Three was another cargo space for the Warden. The difference between this deck
and deck nine is that deck three contained much of the terraforming equipment
used on the planets that were Warden’s
destination. While the prefab cities and factories were offloaded and put into
place, they were intended to be replaced onboard the Warden by new construction produced by the facilities on deck eight. With
that deck’s production facilities brought to a virtual standstill, deck three now
lays mostly empty. That includes atmospherically, as well over a century ago a
meteor managed to make its way past Warden’s
point-defense systems, creating a hull breach that evacuated the atmosphere
here before the crippled AI could halt it. While the hull breach has been long
repaired, the AI decided to not waste resources on pumping in new atmosphere.
After all, with so much of the ship’s complement dead or hostile, the fewer
places usable as bases for hostile mutants, the better.
Deck Two is the wilderness deck. The climate and terrain is
much like that of Yosemite, and the deck once served as a haven for those
people on the Warden who sought the
solace of rugged uplands. This deck ended up being one of the most war-torn
sections of the ship during the worst of the chaotic years. The most evil of the
mutant factions ended up destroying each other and themselves, leaving the deck
to the sapients who wanted nothing to do with any faction. In the intervening years,
the deck has become a true howling wilderness, with isolated homesteads and
rustic villages of mutants and non-mutants standing as points of civilization continually besieged
by hostile monsters and remnants of the factions that once dominated the deck.
Deck One, or the Command Deck, isn’t a deck, per se. It’s the topside of Warden, and consists of several domes or
protrusions on the ship. These range from the large, clear-domed city and
garden domes, to the blisters of the observation domes, to the outrigger-like
Command Nucleus. The remnants of what life on Warden was like before the
radiation disaster can generally be found in these areas.
This overview is to give a taste of what's to come. I tweaked a good bit of it from the original source material to suit my taste.
Next: Part 5: Deck Nine: Cargo Deck
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