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

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

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

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

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

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

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