Description: This will be my poor, poor SI's cracky misadventures as a PA Commander throughout...
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower [PA Multicross SI]
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TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
- Joined
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Description: This will be my poor, poor SI's cracky misadventures as a PA Commander throughout the multiverse.
Alright, I'm jumping on the bandwagon. All aboard the Crackship, choo choo! The chapters will likely be shorter than my other stories. Call it an experiment. First snippet should be along as soon as I can post it. 30s or so.
Current World (probably):
-SAO Abridged
Future World Rolls:
Alright, I'm jumping on the bandwagon. All aboard the Crackship, choo choo! The chapters will likely be shorter than my other stories. Call it an experiment. First snippet should be along as soon as I can post it. 30s or so.
Current World (probably):
-SAO Abridged
Future World Rolls:
Last edited:
Chapter 1 - Oh Hey Another One
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 1
Oh Hey Another One
I wake up with a gasp-Chapter 1
Oh Hey Another One
Except, not really, because I can't breathe.
I don't… need, to breathe?
...Wut.
Aaaand that is the ground. The ground I am not currently on. The discovered ground.
The ground I'm dropping towards waaaaaaay too fast shit shit shit SHIIIIIIIIIT!!!
Okay, this is not the time to panic, I can figure something out.
Firstly, how am I dropping towards the ground?
..That is an orbital drop pod.
Around me.
And it has four. thrusters.
Right. So.
I'm either something I've never heard of, or a Commander. From the glorious RTS that is Planetary Annihilation.
...Which probably means I'm actually an SI, come to think of it. I previously believed this to be downright impossible, at least given my universe's location on the waveform that is the layers of existence, but I'm currently experiencing a rather bumpy ride down to a planet from orbit inside a gigantic Brutally Efficient Self Replicating Machine of War.
So, hello to the people reading my thoughts! Also, me who's writing this, you are an ass.
I mean it's… technically possible ROBs actually exist and that one has picked me of all people to mess with, but it's far more likely I'm being trolled by myself.
Hmmm… I wonder whether Me and… Me, can setup a bidirectional memory link or something. Writer Me already has mine, he's creating them after all, but I don't have his.
...Nothing? You continue to be an ass, Me.
Ah well, unidirectional multi existence layer consciousness will have to do for now.
Right, landed, cool rainbow explosion ('cause rainbows are cool), drop pod disintegrates.
If I had knuckles, I would crack them.
Showtime, girls and boys.
Step 1: Build an aircraft factory. I am so happy I seem to have all my PA techs unlocked, from what I can tell anyways. I'll know for sure once I grab a T2 fabber.
Not every story has to start out with building a metal extractor.
Factory finished. Queue up a scout plane and five T1 fabbers. Use Commander chassis to build three mex and then assist the factory.
See, I can build the metal extractors afterwards. They don't have to be the first things a Commander plops down!
Scout plane finishes. Set it for planetwide patrol.
Looks like my Commander is going to finish building the mex just after my first fabber is done. That's okay.
First fabber finished. Set it to build on all close by metal spots via an area construction command.
Commander assisting factory now. Second fabber builds like, three times as fast. It's done. Set it to go to a further away cluster of metal spots and area construct.
Third fabber finished. Scout plane has located my enemy.
Scout plane has located my enemy.
...
NOT COOL, ME!!!
Oh, wait. Enemies.
There are three enemy commanders on this planet.
...You've graduated from ass to dickwaffle, Writer Me.
Right, they're still setting up their bases. No time for me to go to full T2 bullshit, I've gotta thin the herd immediately.
Fourth fabber finished. Send both off to more metal clusters, away from the enemy Commanders.
And finally, fifth fabber. I have this one finish constructing mex on the slightly further away mex spots near my landing location that my first one hasn't managed to get to and send the first one off to another metal cluster.
Okay. 3 minutes since landing.
I'm on track.
Have Commander queue up a 3 x 3 grid of basic power plants. While my slow-ass body is moving out de wae, queue up a return command for all my mex building fabbers.
Oof, there goes my scout plane. The enemy Osiris Commander shot it down.
Well, they know I'm on the planet now. Too bad in roughly two minutes it won't matter.
Now that at least a couple of the power plants are constructed and two of my outlying fabbers are on the way back, it's time to go full Von Neumann up in this bitch.
Queue up five T1 air factories for each of the returning fabbers.
Build five more fabbers from the original factory.
As our good old boy Brackman says: Oh yes.
I've got over 100 metal income now, thanks to the generous metal clusters I've been able to capture.
Just enough.
Three fabbers are on the way back, and my Commander has finished with the power plants.
I need another 3 x 3 grid. And so, I queue one up.
I also queue up five more factories for two of the incoming fabbers, and four for the final, fifth one.
That'll leave me with a solid 25 air factories in… roughly a couple of minutes. So at 6:23 mission time, they'll be done.
My original air factory has finished pumping out all five new fabbers. I have one each assist the factory building fabbers.
My energy income takes a decent hit, but it drops the completion time down to 5:42.
Much better.
I idly make the original factory patrol around my base in a circle and set it to infinity build T1 fighters.
Air wall. Just in case. It'll be fully developed by the time the factories are up.
Another 3 x 3 grid of power plants, Commander. Stat!
Okay. Whew. No more commands to give for a good full minute and forty seconds.
Time to think.
So, from my memories, I know I've been idly toying with the idea of writing a Multicross SI of the PA variety for a while. Ever since discovering the others on the various webforums, really.
Guess I… Writer Me, finally started it.
With me as the unfortunate lab rat.
...I blame you for this Drich. And Fusou. And… damn there's so many of my new peers out there in the multiverse, aren't there?
Phoenix, Faith… or wait, just Hope now, I guess, Tiki, Nova, and so many more.
Shit, if us Commanders weren't being protected by Author Fiat, it's likely we'd be bumper to bumper (or is that fabber to fabber?) across the multiverse!
There was even that one dude who deployed a package for us SV/SBer Commanders throughout the multiverse. Or, at least, his multiverse. The likelihood of my multiverse being any other Commander's multiverse… well, it's low, and not just because the beings that make Eldritch ones look like chew toys for those in my new layer of existence have to agree to collaborate before any linking can occur.
It gets a little scary when you contemplate just how much power Authors have.
...Speaking of, oh kind, wise, and powerful god of my story, could I have that shiny technology I was just talking about?
Suddenly a burst of light blips into existence above me. An object comes tumbling out at supersonic velocity… and clangs into my head.
I reach down to pick it up. Could Writer Me be answering my plea?
Yeah. Yeah, he did.
I'm holding a metal basketball with the words NOT YET engraved on it.
...I reiterate that you are a dickwaffle, Me.
Internally sighing, I drop the basketball into the dirt. Seems the thing is pretty heavy given it plants itself halfway inside. The taunting words are, of course, looking straight up at me.
Major Grade Dickwaffle.
He stuck me in a Commander's body, too. I know it wouldn't take that much to give me a more humanoid one, yet Writer Me declined.
Yet again, unless a ROB is aping my behavior rather fierce. It's not out of the question just yet.
All this would've pissed me off…
But.
But.
This also means that I get to experience becoming something beyond expectations. To seek out new tech and new life. To boldly go where, well, someone, and a lot of someones, have certainly gone before, but in my own way.
That way being held to my two fundamental writing tenets.
The Only Winning Move is Overwhelming Firepower, and Pseudo-Crack.
I'll provide the former, with Writer Me providing the latter. You'd think that I would clarify it with 'when he's not trolling me', but past experience has proven me capable of doing both at the same time with no problems.
Oh yeah. This is gonna be fun.
A few dozen more seconds is all I have left to think. Then my factories are finished.
And a couple of seconds later, so is my third power cube.
That's all the power I'll need. And I have all the metals I'll need.
So, I have all the fabbers assist my Commander, moving them away from the factories. The original factory I remove the queued plane from. This allows it to finish its current fighter.
Then it's done.
25 T1 air factories.
All ready to build.
Unassisted, yes, but raw quantity is a quality all its own.
A T1 Bomber, codename Bumblebee, has a 21 second construction time.
I can build 25 of the the fuckers every cycle.
It takes roughly thirty to detonate a Commander.
Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh.
I love bomber sniping.
All factories on Continuous. Queue up a single Bumblebee for each.
Begin.
All the factory arm… circle… octagon fabber mechanisms begin to spin, and the nanoframes of my force that's going to be recreating the bombing campaign against Japan starts to take shape.
My Metal income almost drops to 0, but that's fine. I won't need it very soon.
22 seconds later, including 1 second for liftoff, I have a force of aircraft nearly sufficient to wipe one of my enemies from the face of the world.
Another 22 seconds and I have double that.
RIP my enemies.
Let's see, who shall die first?
Well, I don't really have a preference, so the uppity asswipe that decided to shoot down my cute little scout plane becomes Target Number 1. No killing Scout-chan. Bad Osiris Commander. I don't have a squirt bottle big enough for you, so you'll just have to settle for thermonuclear fire.
I select all 50 Bumblebees and send them the Osiris' way. They'll get within sensor range soon, where I'll be able to see the Osiris and manually target it.
Meanwhile, the factories continue to churn out 25 Bumblebees every 22 seconds.
MUAHAHAHAHAHA!
The Osiris is within sensor range now.
Side note: PA units actually have speaker systems.
Yeah, I know, right? I suppose that speakers aren't remotely expensive on the PA scale, so I shouldn't be surprised, but…
Ah well.
That just lets me pay proper tribute.
I target the Osiris commander directly. The Bumblebees reorient to dive through its base straight for the unfortunate enemy AI. The speakers on all the Bumblebees on the attack run switch on.
And music, assembled from my surprisingly complete audio database (Thanks, Writer Me!) starts playing.
Buh ba ba bah baaaaah buh ba ba bah baaaaah buh ba ba bah baaaaah buh ba ba bah baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
Because honestly, what else was I going to play?
The sound washes over the Osiris' base like a tide of oncoming awesome. The spiky Commander turns to look in the direction of the music, ceasing assisting its factory as it does so.
If Commanders had eyes, I'd like to imagine the Osiris' would be wide with shock and fear.
It hastily backpedals and starts to run away from its base. Well, away from the incoming storm, but I'll say the base because it sounds better. More like the Osiris is scared chicken.
The Bumblebees cross the entire base before reaching the fraidy cat Osiris. This winds up taking three of them out, as the base has some anti air capability, but not remotely enough.
The first wave zooms over the Osiris and lets loose a torrent of bomb missiles.
Yeah. Bomb. Missiles. Progenitor tech is that BS.
The Osiris has less than a fourth of their health left when the first bomber begins circling back around for another strike.
The Commander has been shooting its comparatively powerful AA gun this whole time but only managed to destroy 10 bombers.
Not enough to save it. Not even remotely.
The rest of my bombers close in for the kill-
And the Commander goes up in a thermonuclear fireball.
It wipes most of the planes out, but that's one enemy down.
Funny story; I have five more flights of 25 bombers each hovering over my base.
And the sixth just finished.
I separate them into two groups of 75 Bombers each and send them both to the remaining two Commanders' bases.
This will be over very, very soon.
More Ride of the Valkyries and two thermonuclear explosions that reach orbit later, I'm the only Commander left on the planet.
Huh. I'd say that was too easy, but I'd be tempting Murphy. Or Writer Me.
Knowing me, the latter might be worse.
So no commentary on the difficulty of my opponents enters the wider universe.
I stop my factories from producing Bumblebees and breathe a sigh of relief.
For now, I'm safe, and can tech up in peace.
No, shiver of fear running down my nonexistent spine, I am not acknowledging your existence.
The metal basketball beneath my feet spins around until the other side is facing upwards. Upon it is engraved an abstraction of the kid of a skeptical meme.
...Screw off, Writer Me! Or ROB. Whichever you are.
Last edited:
Chapter 2 - Tech 2
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 2
Tech 2
Chapter 2
Tech 2
Alright.
I officially have the greatest ROB ever. Even if it's a dickwaffle, and most likely me.
While I didn't have the entirety of the T2 and T3 (or rather Titan) tech tree unlocked, the three previously alive enemies on the planet did.
After a lot of reclaiming and Progenitor grade hacking programs, I had them.
And three Galactic War tech upgrades, too. My metal and energy incomes are now augmented out the ying-yang, and I can send my hovering ships, the Kraken, through my Teleporters.
My planet is also now a haven of T2 metal extractors. My income is through the roof. I have full orbital control with lots and lots of Anchors.
There do seem to be other planets in the system. A couple are even gas giants, something I'm looking forward to for the insane income I'll get once my swarm of orbital fabbers finishes blanketing them in atmospheric extractors.
I've taken over the two moons of my planet and carpeted them in more T2 mexes. One of the moons is even being used for nothing more than energy generators (besides the mexes, that is).
Everywhere.
There's also a metal planet (read: budget death star) that is pretty far out on a rather eccentric orbit, high off the solar plane. It takes ages for anything to get there. Case in point, the 5 T2 fabbers I launched there from my Unit Cannon.
Forty minutes ago.
They're only now entering orbit. Ffs that thing is far.
And they've landed, safe and sound. Not an enemy to be seen.
I hadn't encountered any more anywhere else, but I figured if there were gonna be more they would be out here, on this remote artificial world.
Okay, queue up a T1 air factory, then assist it. That takes a few seconds to complete. Build a T1 air fab, done, have it build a T2 factory, done, have the T2 fabbers assist the construction.
Well I have a minute or so.
Right. Time to take stock. What can I do?
Do I have the fabled Progenitor Design Program, the one which Drich, Fusou, and several others did?
...Yes.
Yes I do.
And Writer Me is even more of a troll, because it's basically Sketchup.
I know a certain itty bitty pretty battleship kitty uses this to make awesome stuff. I, however, do not.
Whyyyyyy?! Tell me Writer Me, why hast thou forsaken thy creation so?!
First thing I do when I reach an inhabited Earth is grab a proper program like Max or Maya. I'd even take Blender.
Ugh.
Good news is it's not actually Sketchup. It can't be, because this program isn't just a modeling application. It allows me to tear apart and rebuild actual technical systems too.
It's pretty much a super high end CAD program crossed with Sketchup, Skynet, and the most bullshit 3D printer system in the universe.
That fills in things for you.
This, this right here is 100% why the Progenitors got as OP as they did. I kinda want to hand this program to a humanity just to watch the fireworks.
Meh, something to put on the list anyways-
Oh, good! My T2 air factory is done. Queue up… 30? 30 sounds good, T2 air fabbers, set the factory to auto assist itself, and jumpstart it with the vehicle T2 fabbers.
Okay now where was I? Ah yes, causing chaos and mayhem across the multiverse.
...I wonder how long it would take to Dyson Sphere this star system?
Going full Von Neumann? Five minutes.
Yeah. BESRMoW are scary for very good reasons.
I also am just about finished with scouting out the metal planet. The hologram generators on the inside of the Sphere are activating, painting a glorious picture across the 'sky' as they boost up the brightness of the outside universe. It would take my breath away if I still had any.
Wow.
Keeping this hologram tech in use. Definitely. My stuff is gonna look sweet.
So far I haven't found anything of note on the metal planet. Lots of metal spots which my fabbers are hastily covering with mexes, but little else. And of course there are the locations in which I can install the glorified heatsinks that are the Metal Planet Annihilaser Activators, but I don't really consider those noteworthy. My scouts are converging on the opposite pole from my landing location annddd-
...Wait a sec.
Is that what I think it is?
The scout plane lowers its altitude to get a closer, more accurate look at the cylindrical, keyed device in front of the newly discovered ring.
Yeah. It is.
That confirms it. I'm being trolled by myself, not a ROB.
Planting a literal Milky Way model Stargate with a hyper advanced, touchscreen DHD in front of it out on literally the last spot I'd end up exploring in this star system reeks of my own particular blend of fucking with people.
Gods damn it. Progenitor Teleporter, now.
I'm standing in front of the Gate. And yes, it is an actual Stargate. It looks like a textbook Milky Way model. Not a single ounce of modification.
The DHD, on the other hand, looks like someone took the Atlantis Control Room's DHD and merged it with an LCARS console, then installed Linux.
Yeah, Linux. Oye. At least it's not Windows 10 or Vista.
Thankfully I'm a Commander now. It's piss easy for me to scan and store the designs for the Stargate, the custom DHD, the Ancient programs running inside it, and the Linux distro the thoughtful (read: dickwaffle) Writer Me included in it.
I can now build Stargates. And the original DHD types. Heck, even this new type of DHD.
All except for the little black box inside the thing, labeled 'Trans-Reality Rupture Generator'. Try as I might, no data comes from scanning it. I can't even tell it exists, except visually.
And it's completely impervious to harm.
Including the post it note that appears after I attempt to use my Uber Laser to cut it open. The one with the stuck out tongue emoticon on it.
Yeah. Definitely me.
Anyways, clearly this device is meant for me to use to travel to other universes. I also, clearly, don't have control over it. Writer Me does, through that box.
And no, I can't just sniff the data coming out of it to the DHD when I open the Stargate.
It doesn't work like that.
This box accepts input only. Anything it's hit with, it absorbs. Slight fluctuations in the Stargate's wormhole, when open and the box is messed with, are my only clues the energy doesn't just disappear from the universe.
How do I know that? I tried shooting my Uber Cannon at the box when a wormhole was open to another Gate I built on one of my worlds that weren't out in the middle of the stellar equivalent of bumfuck nowhere.
The local star let out a burp in the form of a gigantic coronal mass ejection, erasing my units, buildings, hell even their footsteps, from one of the moons, turned it into a gods damned lava moon, and the wormhole inside the Gate imploded into a momentary, thankfully tiny, black hole.
Message received loud and clear, Me! I get it! Don't shoot the box and the star won't shoot back!
Anyways, there's no way my Commander chassis is gonna fit through the Stargate. Neither I not my fabricator programs know enough about Gate science to reliably make a bigger gate, either. And the Progenitor Teleporter and Stargate technologies are incompatible.
Not to mention that even if I could make a bigger one, odds are I'd be coming out a normal sized gate on the other end. That would not be fun. Either the Gate refuses to materialize the parts of me that are too fat or I come out shrunk.
No thanks.
That means I need to design a new, humanoid body right off the bat.
Oh well.
Can't be that hard.
...Famous last words, these.
IT'S HARD.
VERY VERY HARD.
I've been trying to figure out a human form for about five days straight now.
But no matter what I do, how close I get, something ends up breaking. Whether the musculature rips itself off the bones, the skin turns into a vice, or even that one time the brain metamorphosed into a literal chocolate pudding, I always encounter a problem.
...You know what, maybe I'm approaching this the wrong way. I've been trying to create a synthetic equivalent to biological superstructure. Maybe I should follow evolution's own idea? Keep It Simple Stupid?
I have nanotechnology and I'm a Stargate fan. I don't have the blueprints behind Asuran Nanite tech, but do I really need it?
I'm not trying to make an Asuran. I'm trying to make a human looking, and feeling if I can, body.
Hmmm…..
Alright, break it down. I have nanotech, what does it do? It builds things. How?
Ah, by connecting molecules.
By. Connecting. Molecules.
I'm starting to think my nanotech might actually be about a billion times more advanced than Asuran Nanites.
It takes some pretty intense modification, but by messing with the properties of the atomic bonds the nanotech makes nanoframes out of, it can remain in the liquid state all Progentior things initially are built (though knowing what I now know, I'd use 'grown' instead) as. A few more tweaks with the nanotech's communications ability, namely, giving them the ability to communicate with each other at all, and I have a pretty good base for a nanite that will function almost identically to that of the Asuran and Replicator nanites with which they made Human Form Replicators.
Only as they are Progenitor tech and don't link up using Keyrons but in fact raw molecular connection, they are not vulnerable to disruptor weapons.
However as a consequence to this change of operation, I can't soak up energy with them. That's concerning, sort of, as that was the thing that made Replicators the galaxy-eating power they became.
Also, Progenitors basically didn't have shields. I'd have to pick up that tech somewhere else at some point. They had deflection systems, sure, but those were more for interstellar dust than… plasma blasts.
Hmm. What to do. I could have my humanoid body but it wouldn't be super invulnerable like my main Commander chassis or the Asurans were-
I'm an idiot.
I tossed the super OP design program my idea. It returned positive.
Oh fuck yes.
Progenitor Alloy, the thing they plate almost literally everything with, acts a lot like the nanite matrix the Asurans and Replicators had. It consists of a whole bunch of small, aligned crystals, which when hit by energy of any kind vibrate to dissipate the energy across the entire plate. It's a glorified resonance cascade machine. The only way to damage the Alloy is to overcome the level of resonance it can contain and return to the environment.
And I can coat my new nanites in a thinner layer of the stuff.
Sure, one on one, the thin layer does nothing much. It provides the nanite a buttload of protection on a nano scale. Not on a macro scale.
But if you have millions of the things working in concert?
Not only can they act like a solid sheet of Progenitor Alloy when need be, they can also direct any energy the entire matrix is given in certain directions. Phase the energy a little bit and I can fire plasma blasts from my hands!
Yes. All of my yes. Add in a Commander Resource Core and ensure the nanites can actually still use their fabrication systems… and they can. Fantastic!
Now I just need to fabricate this body of mine. It's gonna be pretty expensive. I wonder if my economy can take it.
Hahahahaha, yeah, I couldn't keep a straight face either. I spin my Commander body around to face forwards and align the huge Fabricator on the arm with the impromptu table I'd had a spare aerial fabber create in front of me.
Grey Goo, here I come!
Bob Knob
Know what you're doing yet?
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I like this, depending on what direction you take this it could be fun. I've just been anticipating your "Shipping It" fic more. I hope this doesn't detract from that one too much. Now I'm anticipating what you'll come out with next.
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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Thanks! Welcome to the Crackship!
If I'm not updating a story it's because I couldn't work on it. Spending time on my other stories actually increases the chance I can write a chapter for all the other stories rather than decreasing it. My muse refuses to go somewhere unless I handle what she's shoving my way right then first.
Shipping It CH3 is close to being finished, though.
Somewhere insane and full of glorious, glorious bullshit, no doubt.
Me too! I have no plan at all in regards to this story and I am pretty much entirely winging it. It's fun.
Chapter 3 - Shake Your Body Down
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 3
Shake Your Body Down
Chapter 3
Shake Your Body Down
...This is taking a lot longer than I thought it would.
My poor Commander-level fabber has to create each nanite. Individually.
The slowly growing puddle of slightly blue ooze that will become my new body is going to take quite a long time to complete. Days, in fact.
…
What the hell am I going to do to pass that much t- WAIT A SECOND.
None of the Asuran programs are here! My body isn't going to have any way to run itself!
Shit shit shit shit shiiiiit!
Well, I have the knowledge. And the time. I may not have experienced programming on this particular codebase before, but Progenitor bullshit being what it is, it can't be that difficult. I bet the uber designer program will be able to help me, too.
Yup, it has a programming section.
...Can I do it? I'm gonna do it. I rarely ever get to make this reference.
I raise my Commander's other arm, the one with the Uber Laser in it, and shove my fist into the sky. "BY THE POWER OF SKETCHUP!"
I'm not sorry and nothing you say can make me sorry.
[TRANSFERENCE SUCCESSFUL. BOOTING SINGULARITY.EXE…]
It's quite a surreal experience to be able to monitor your own boot sequence. Something I really shouldn't be able to see. After all, by all rights, my mind is offline while it is not booted up.
And yet I'm floating in a soft golden void with gaseous clouds of… something flowing around the golden, vaguely humanoid form I would call my body in this… space.
Is this my soul?
A force pulls me towards my new body and cuts off any more speculation I might be able to idly perform.
Everything goes dark… and then light.
I blink my eyes. The first thing I can actually see, once my optical sensors fully activate, is the sky.
I sit up rapidly and look around.
Everything seems right. My Commander body is standing there, fabber outstretched. It's now just another unit. No mind inside.
I take a look at my hands. They're nothing but dark navy blue blobs connected to more of the dark navy blue blob that is my new body.
The color must be because of the Alloy.
Alright, time to see if the Image Projection subsystem works. I send it the mental image of… well, me, but improved.
Big, tall, long auburn hair, pink skin. That skin color is the most important. Not because I'm ethnist, but because I don't wanna be blue.
Thankfully it appears the system works. My nanites reconfigure and rearrange to shift the reflected light from my body into the correct image. They also move, expanding or contracting, to set up the right body proportions.
...I have a feeling this would be incredibly uncomfortable without being made of nanites.
A second or so and it's finished. My body looks back at me. Or, well, an accidentally improved version. I do not have abs anywhere near those.
I'm also naked. Whoops.
Clothes only take another second or so. Just a standard pair of cargo pants and a polo shirt.
Hey, don't knock it till you try it. I like my style! It helps when you need to carry stuff!
I swivel around on the table and slowly begin to slide off. I brace myself with my hands, anchoring them into the actual structure of the table. Just in case.
It proves to be unneeded though. My feet alight on the grassy ground of my home planet in this universe without so much as a wobble.
Oh, right. Nanites. Bipedalism is chump change. Heh.
Pulling my hands out of the table I stand tall, in an approximation of my own body, for the first time since I've been SI'd.
It's nice. And it seems the senses are being interpreted correctly. That was one of my worries when I designed the underlying suite of software which runs my body for me. My worries were thankfully for naught.
Just one final test before I can stop the initial experimentation. I should theoretically be able to shapeshift. Into anything I can imagine.
I'm gonna stick with a human for now, though, as I have no wish to try to learn how to walk on more legs.
The best way to stress test this particular system is to go as far away from my current form as possible. Since I'm giving myself the limit of human… that basically means female.
Le sigh.
Whatever. If I'm gonna be a girl for a tiny amount of time, I'd better make the test worth it. Which means as different a body shape as I can… and maybe some additions?
Huh. Well my forum avatar is as good an example as any. She's quite well endowed, in both sets of curves, and the halo will be an additional test of my nanites' ability.
I form the mental image of her body, and push.
Sure enough, my body begins shifting. The bulk of my male, original form redistributes to my hips and chest. 'Organs' reform, my legs both get longer, skinnier, and bigger, paradoxically. My hair grows out too, but not by much. I have long hair as a guy.
Huh. My body feels lighter somehow. And definitely way more bouncy. I do a couple of jumps to confirm the physics emulation of my nanites… and yes, they work. A little too well, if the fact it takes me a few seconds to tear my gaze away from my own chest is any indicator.
There's something to be said about designing something too well.
Then the part I'm actually trying to pay attention to occurs. How will my nanites create the halo? It should be a completely disconnected piece.
...Well that's a novel way to do it.
A cluster of them leave my head and hover up into the air around it. They form into a ring, then start emitting light. One halo get.
But I can still control them.
I idly direct the halo towards my skinnier, smooth hand and grab it. The nanites don't re-merge. They stay as a self-contained unit. I can easily override that, but the default behavior seems to be working correctly.
Interesting. This has possibilities. I wonder…
I throw the halo across the moon as hard as I can. Only I forget that I'm forgetting something… rather important.
The halo breaks the sound barrier as it rockets out of my hand.
...Whoops. I forgot I'm not human. Lots more strength.
Once the halo slows back down it is halfway across the entire planet. Yes, this planet is rather on the small side, but still.
Instead of calling it back I simply direct it to one of the Teleporters nearby. It flies out of the one next to me and alights above my head again.
So, I can detach parts of myself and use them as weapons, or as individual units.
Hmm… Can I operate two bodies at once?
Worth a check, I think.
I suck a ton of metal and energy out of my storage in a five second period as I manufacture another few million nanites. They stand up next to me as another navy blue blob.
I connect to their systems. It works fine. They just seem to be an extension of myself.
I isolate their systems in a similar way to what I've seen the halo nanites do, then push my previous male form into their Image Projection system.
Two seconds later, another naked me stands there.
Clothes.
Oh, hmm. I just noticed that my original clothes are still on my female body, and are only on it because my hips and chest strain them enough to keep them on.
Heh. Whoops. I take a moment to reconfigure this body's clothing to that of my forum avatar. Cargo jeans, a nice undershirt, and an overcoat. I make can sure the pants have actual fucking pockets, too.
Excellent. They 'feel' like they fit much better. Including the underwear.
...Something I will not be revealing the measurements of, you perverts.
Granted I am still technically naked, but… bah!
It's all semantics anyways.
Oh, hey, my male body is still naked. Let's fix that.
Original clothes on it. Now, can I move it?
Yes. I can also move my female one.
This is weird.
I'm in two heads at once and can act independently inside of each body. At the same time.
Nope! Nope nope nope! Too weird! I can't cope with multithreaded thought just yet, thanks! The test is done now back to one body right this second!!!
I deactivate my female body and use my male one to absorb the nanites. This ends up making me have twice the number of them the design calls for, but that was bare minimum anyways. It doesn't matter how many I have as part of myself up until the point I start generating my own gravity well.
And that is several orders of magnitude more.
...You know what? I just had an idea.
My halo was able to fly back to me. Well, hover back, but still. There were comparatively few nanites in it versus my body.
Have I accidentally given myself superpowers?!
Let's see. Super strength? Yup, I tossed my halo half the way around my planet. Super durability? Built in.
Flight?!
I instruct the nanites near my outer shell to engage their hover engines all in a downwards vector.
I abruptly realize my mistake a split second before they come online. The thing is, I forgot a rather important detail.
These engines are microscopic, yes, but they are based on the designs that keep the Zeus in the sky, push my spaceships around in orbit fast enough to travel interplanetary, and allow actual wet navy ships to hover.
Calling them hover engines is actually a bit disingenuous. Their density, power, the mass of the thing they're pushing, and their vector determines whether they serve as just hover engines or proper thrusters.
Sure, the ones in my body are small. In contrast, I have several million of them all facing in a single direction and trying to push something lighter by an order of magnitude than literally anything they've ever been used on.
I don't hover. I don't just fly.
I pull a Tony Stark and almost blink into orbit. Straight into and through an Anchor.
The stream of fire and vaporized air rings slowly spreading out across the atmosphere of my planet in my wake are my only evidence that I didn't just teleport.
Heh. Whoops.
Even as I direct my swarm of orbital fabbers to start repairing the world, I can't help but squeal with glee.
I CAN FLY!
AND IT WORKS IN SPACE!!!
I'm a gods damned space capable Alexandria package, and I bet if I researched it enough, I could fire bullshit lasers or plasma blasts without needing to absorb the energy first. I can probably do an ice breath with crystalline nitrogen too, if I had to.
That makes me a Superman package. But made out of nanomachines, son.
Oh fuck to the yes.
As I reenter the atmosphere on course for my Commander body, I shout my glee to the entire sky. "WAAAHHOOOOOO! I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!!"
Chapter 4 - Adventure Calls
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 4
Adventure Calls
Chapter 4
Adventure Calls
Alright. This is it. After calming down enough from my discovery of my accidental superpowers (And a joyride around my star system), I'm ready to start my obligatory PA SI Multicross Adventure.
My Commander body is offline, ready to boot my backup consciousness up again if I don't reestablish contact with my command network in this universe within a month.
It wouldn't be me, though. Given I was pretty sure I had a soul, the new me would have one too. A new soul. They might think they're me, they'll have my memories, but it wouldn't surprise me if the new soul ended up processing those memories differently. Maybe they'll even fall more on the female side than me, leading to them choosing a female form for their standard instead of a male for mine.
I'm down to be a chick sometimes, they are hot after all, but I'm comfy as a guy for everything else.
In order for that to become necessary though, I'd have to be stranded.
...Or too dead to care, I suppose. Nice thoughts these.
Oh well.
Actually... all this prep work might end up being worthless. I wouldn't let an SI of me die and be replaced, nor get cut off from the way to continue my entertainment, which means Writer Me won't either. I'd probably just get yanked back here if I do die or get stranded, honestly.
That's comforting. I think.
Now, where to go?
I walk up to the DHD and put my hand on my chin. I almost automatically begin stroking my beard as I ponder my question.
I'd added a beard to my body for the explicit purpose of having something to stroke thoughtfully while coming up with plans. That was almost literally the only reason.
Hey, it's a great reason!
The other benefit is that it makes me look older. More dignified. My beard isn't gray by any definition, oh no; it's auburn, same as my hair. Some red strands are sprinkled in for aesthetic purposes. Runs around my entire face, into sideburns, and merges with my hair.
And unlike when I was human, the damn hair doesn't emulate a rat's nest after twelve hours since being brushed.
Ahh! I'm getting sidetracked. Where should I go?
The UI isn't exactly standard Alteran. Oh, sure, the normal 39 glyphs are there, arranged in a circle with a giant push button for activation in the middle, but there are other things on the screen too.
Like that big Random Address button.
I know exactly what that thing represents. Writer Me most likely has a list of possible worlds for me to travel to on whatever forum he's posted my story to. Hitting that button will make him roll a dice to select a world.
I imagine I'll get an address from it.
An address, and nothing more.
No, a guide to whatever I was going into would be too unlike me. I love to make players discover things in my campaigns. That style of GMing likely carries over to messing with me, too.
Oh well. Not like I have any valid addresses memorized. The ones I know from Stargate won't do much good here.
...Will they?
I hastily punch in the address for Earth from Stargate. The final chevron locks in and I hit the activation button.
Nothing. The gate just powers down.
Abydos? Nope.
Chulak? Also no.
Atlantis? Lantea? Any of the SGC offworld backup sites? Langara?!
All get no reaction from my Gate. Or the black box.
Ah well. Too much to hope for, I guess.
Those will help once I reach the actual Stargate universe, but here they aren't valid.
Fair enough.
And I know you forum goers. You don't think I have Stargate somewhere in the world list. Or you do, because you can read it, but you are calling bullshit on me being able to know.
...Hahahahahahahahahahahaaaaaaaaa!
See here's the thing; I'm an SI. By definition I'm either my original self or a copy. I know how I work. I know what I like, and I know what I would put in such a list. I'm effectively able to metagame my own story.
If you don't like that, well… screw you! I'm going to take any advantage I can get in this thing! I mean, come on! I'm basically a metallic monkey here for the entertainment whims of myself and any other higher level observers.
Give me this one.
I wait for several moments to see if Writer Me objects.
Nothing happens.
Hmm. Seems I approve of my actions. Grand.
…Aaaand, back on the original topic, I know that I'm far too big of a Gate geek to not include that universe. It's in the list.
I just have to discover the address to get there from my own PA universe. The one I'm in. The one I started in.
My Hubverse? For Hub Universe?
Yeah. I like that. Kind of cliche and I know for a fact other Commanders have named their origin universes similarly, but oh well. It's accurate.
Frankly I'm surprised I didn't start off in the Stargate verse. Guess I wanted to stick to some conventions of the PA SI story.
Well, I have no addresses that work. No plan, and no way of getting out of this solar system to see if the other stars in the sky are real or simulated. Ironically I have to go to another universe entirely to grab an FTL technology to help me go a mere few light years.
I sigh, resigned to my fate, and smack the random button.
I can almost hear the dice rolling.
No, wait, I can actually hear dice rolling. There's a little animation of them on the screen. Sound included.
Classy, Writer Me. Classy.
A specific energy pattern is fired off to the Black Bullshit Box. It returns a series of numbers, which the DHD interprets into glyphs. A seven glyph address pops up above the digital DHD mockup with three question marks above that.
Huh. So the box does respond to certain stimuli. It just needs to be structured.
I commit the glyphs of the unknown address to memory and, just as a test, slap the random button again.
That same signal is sent to the Box. It responds… with the same numbers.
I see. Once I generate a random address I have to travel there before the Box will give me another address.
Glad Writer Me saw that edge case coming. Glad for him, that is, because I'd die of embarrassment if I failed to catch that when programming the damned thing.
Nothing more to it. I tap in the address, slap the activation button, and the Gate connects.
That kawoosh will never get old.
The fluctuations in the wormhole and the event horizon show me that the Box is working its bullshit properly. No abnormal solar flare activity. No mini singularities.
Seems like all systems are go.
I'm not just gonna step through without any information from the other side, however. I quickly design a glorified sensor ball
with a tiny fusion reactor and a few hover engines onboard as my primary Gate scouting unit. It kinda reminds me of the Kino from SGU, only not designed by a toddler with their finger up their ass.
...I have a lot of beef with that show.
Worry not, though, my vacuum fighting friends and observers. I haven't forgotten the tenets of good design.
The sensor package on the front can swivel open and expose the built in plasma lance.
Yes, this is a scout. On the other hand, you can never have enough Dakka, and I've already experienced what happens when you don't arm your scout drones.
I'm naming this particular model Scout-chan. In honor, of course.
I fabricate one of the cute little balls (it's the size of my head, but on the PA scale that might as well not exist) and send it through the Stargate.
The signal vanishes as the drone transits through the wormhole. When it reappears the signal is distorted a little, but is otherwise readable.
It emerged on what appears to be a gray, dusty world. Nothing shows up inside sensor range besides the Stargate it exited from. It doesn't have a DHD… but there is another Black Box of Bullshit laying on the ground.
Good. I won't be stranded.
I have the drone pan around so the visual sensors can take a look. The Box alone proves that some things in my adventures will only show up that way.
...Oh you have to be shitting me.
Here's a rather important question- how the flying fuck did the Neil Armstrong of this new universe miss a gods damned Stargate within walking distance of his stupid footprint?!
medon12
Getting sticky.
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Might want to embed that pic somewhere in the thread and link to it, or just put it here for reference. I've noticed in forum posted stories before that people will refer to an avatar and then change it months or years later and lines like this will then make no sense.
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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Perhaps. Even probably.
Yup!
I'll put it on my todo list.
Chapter 5 - A Bridge to the Universe of Swords
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 5
A Bridge to the Universe of Swords
Chapter 5
A Bridge to the Universe of Swords
Life Goal Achieved: Literal Moonwalk.
The moon is surprisingly quiet. Like yeah, you assume it will be due to the vacuum and all, but still. It doesn't really hit you until you're standing there on the extremely dusty rock.
I walk around the Stargate as I contemplate… well, several things, but mostly how exactly a Stargate is on the Moon close enough to the Lunar Landing Module I can walk over there and literally kiss it.
Besides my own footprints there aren't many other indicators of something unusual. The Gate seems to be embedded in the Lunar surface just fine. No dust piles around it to indicate that it was recently added.
There are some footprints from, presumably, where Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin fucked around in their spacesuits. The US Flag is here too.
And my still active Stargate hasn't disturbed any of them. With its existence or the activation. The only footprints even approaching it are mine.
I eye the Black Box of Bullshit warily. That thing doesn't have any indicators either.
What the literal shit!
Apparently Writer Me has stepped up my fuckery powers since I split off from Writer Me.
Whatever. I have spent more than enough time trying to locate… something. Whatever I was looking for. Something that was out of place, I suppose.
I don't know whether this Gate existed in this reality before I connected to it or not.
I gaze up at the blue-white sphere above my head and sigh inaudibly.
No clue what universe I'm in yet, and the lack of knowledge of whether Apollo 11 found the Stargate doesn't help.
Even with being unable to activate it, the discovery of the Gate would've changed the path of this reality's Humanity almost unrecognizably.
There aren't any spaceships in range… but then again my current detection systems only cover out to high Lunar orbit.
And without knowing which universe I'm in, I do not want to start BESRMoW'ing it up quite yet. The residents of that titanic blue ball above me might take issue with that.
I guess the only way to figure it out is to go see what's up with this version of my home planet.
I pick up the Black Box. It doesn't seem to care about being moved physically, thankfully. Using the still present connection to my massive resource network in my Hubverse, I assemble a DHD around the box and plant it in front of the Gate.
Oh yeah. My network continues through Stargates. Something about being able to traverse wormholes and whatnot.
I take a moment to admire the fluctuating blue puddle in the center of the Gate, then send the command to my Hubverse to shut the Gate down.
The event horizon dissipates soundlessly.
And I am alone once more.
Well, except for my little Scout-chan, but it's not sapient.
I had no idea how much I would miss the frankly insane number of possible mental contacts I have in my Hubverse until right now.
Just one light sits in the back of my mind. Scout-chan, waiting for orders.
I sigh again, wistfully this time. Just one more test until I can lift off and explore this Earth.
I need to make a connection back to my Hubverse. From here.
Only problem is, I don't have an address that will make the Bullshit Box form that particular connection. Hell I only have one valid address in the first place!
Alright, time to think. This is clearly being written by me. Or a version of me. And so far all evidence has pointed to me employing my own GMing tropes upon my story.
One of which is KISS.
Keep It Simple Stupid. Or Keep It Stupid Simple. I've heard it both ways.
...It can't be that easy, can it?
I punch in the glyphs for this universe; the address that caused the Bullshit Box in the Hubverse to connect here. And I only hesitate a moment before the activation button receives my palm.
The Gate hums a bit, then shuts down. It didn't connect.
Damn. Knew that was too easy.
Hmm.
Maybe… backwards?
I flip the address around in my mind and start punching it into the DHD in reverse. This ends up changing the Point of Origin from the Earth symbol, but… well, nobody ever said Writer Me needed to apply anything approaching logic to the Bullshit Boxes.
Once more I push the activation button.
And the Gate connects. The soundless nature of the unstable vortex is actually rather surreal.
Never heard it without the kawoosh before.
I send a ping through my Resource Network into the Gate. If there is anything on the other side, it will answer.
A moment passes… and then my mind is filled with lights once more.
I sigh with relief. Yup. That's my Hubverse.
I copy my experiences to my backup and then re-engage the system. It's on a 30 day delay again. Once a month I'll need to come back up to the moon and make a connection.
If I can't do that, I have been compromised somehow. I'll need my backup to storm through the Gate with a literal army to come save my ass.
I shut down the Gate and the sea of lights fades once more. For the final time, at least in the near future.
I glance up at the suspiciously normal Earth.
This could be a world with Magic.
Magic absolutely has a chance against Progenitor bullshit.
And I know I've included at least one, most likely two, and possibly three worlds with Magic of varying kinds in whatever list the Bullshit Boxes get their addresses from.
One deep faux breath later and the possibility that I might face opposition of the kind almost designed to be my new race's Achilles Heel fades away.
I order Scout-chan to patrol the moon. It will keep the thing busy and allow me to dial the Gate remotely if I have to.
Like, say, if I need to suddenly open up a can of Orbital Bombardment on some moronic, dark, potato tossing racial superiority propelling fuckwads.
Oh yeah. I know Potter is on that list.
A final shake of my head and I engage my hover engines, lifting off the Lunar surface without disturbing even a speck of dust.
Next stop: Earth.
Then I'm getting a damn pizza.
Travelling between the Moon and the Earth is boring. Even if you have effectively reactionless and infinite thrust. Even if you can reach an appreciable percentage of the speed of light.
It's still boring as shit.
Thankfully I'm now in range of the global communication network. Or rather, I've always been in range, but the number of things able to reply to me that aren't carefully monitored or slow as balls was effectively nil.
But I just passed a GPS satellite. More than close enough.
And like that, the entire Internet of this world is open to me. The good, the bad. Reddit, 4chan. Google, or... Bing.
I accidentally shift my course a little with how hard I laugh in the vacuum.
Oh gods.
No, never Bing
Anyways, this seems to be a pretty standard Humanity. On a pretty standard Earth.
The Wizarding World is looking a lot more likely as every second drags on.
Although… even if I'm in that universe, the planet seems a bit more technologically developed than it has any rights to be. Maybe I've arrived after the entirety of canon?
No, doesn't sound like me. I get my kicks by taking canon universe and kicking them in the nuts with bullshit, bombardment, and butterflies until they barely resemble themselves far too much to allow that.
I might as well check the date. It's a good starting point to figure out where the hell I am.
And the atmosphere is approaching pretty fast, so I'd better do it before the comparatively primitive technology is unable to communicate with me anymore. Damn blackout zone.
I can broadcast to them of course, no measly atmosphere layer or ball of fire will stop that, bit they are simply unable to reply.
Being super tech really doesn't enable you to communicate with something flawlessly at your level. That super tech has to exist on both ends. Otherwise the replies you get are affected by the sender's level of technology, and all the drawbacks that come with it.
Anyways. Enough woolgathering. What is the date.
GPS satellites? You got me, bros?
They do! GPS system, you're the man! Or the non sapient geosynchronous orbit radio beacon cluster! Whichever sounds cooler.
It is currently November 5th, 2022.
… Now why does that sound so damned familiar.
Oof, fireball erupting around me, think later and fly now.
"WAHOOOOOOO! I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!!!"
I am one hundred percent certain I just gave every single space monitoring organization on this planet multiple consecutive heart attacks.
I didn't just fall down through the atmosphere like a meteor would. No. That would be the stealthy way to do it.
And everybody knows how much I love being subtle.
Spoiler alert: Only my story plots get that treatment.
Which is why I did loop de loops, barrel rolls, figure eights, and even spelled out some of my favorite countries names with my contrail.
I took a hurricane on course for Florida and reversed its spin for crying out loud.
No fucking way do they think I'm a meteor.
However I am also made out of Progenitor technology. The effects of my presence, and only the effects, are what anybody on this planet is capable of picking up.
Which means yes, the people at NASA just watched something that seems to not exist reverse the spin of a fucking hurricane right off their shores.
I am completely unashamed to admit that I have no problems with this.
Any of it.
It's fucking hilarious. Especially since I got to watch their reactions. Live.
One of the techs should've worn brown pants to work today.
Anyways, enough fucking around… for now. I still haven't managed to figure out what world I'm on.
Internet search time. I totally don't crack my knuckles.
And by that I mean browsing Reddit, reading news and social media, and looking up memes.
Let's see… cat photos, more cat photos, horrible joke that is nonetheless still hilarious, political shitpost, Russian bot shitpost (and I know, I traced it), news report, worthless news report, fake news report, fake political news report, people freaking out about the 'Planetcaller' aka me, fake news reports about me, celebrities shitposting on social media, NerveGear's first MMO game announcement, even more cat photos, puppy photos, Morgan Freeman polling to be the most popular pick for President on Election Day which is literally tomorr-
Wait a second.
I scroll back up in my local installation of Firefox and mentally squint at one particular news report.
…..
Really?
Last edited:
SystemSearcher
"I fought the door and the door won"
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Snickers
Okay, this is solid top-grade bullshitium. The image of you doing flaming invisible loop-de-loops in the sky legitimately made me giggle.
Okay, this is solid top-grade bullshitium. The image of you doing flaming invisible loop-de-loops in the sky legitimately made me giggle.
UnfortunateWatcher
Getting sticky.
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Wait.... how can it be Election Day if the year is 2022? Hello?
Would totally vote Morgan Freeman for Pres.
Would totally vote Morgan Freeman for Pres.
IsaacTheAutobot1229
Not too sore, are you?
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Well, them players better accept their new robotic overlord. I am going to enjoy this if you ducking with people's heads is the norm.
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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If I'm not making you laugh, I'm doing it wrong. ^_^
Sshhhhhh don't worry about that, Morgan Freeman is Yahweh anyway. It's not as if the author failed to do basic math at 5 in the morning after having not slept.
Mua ha ha.
Pretty much. Then again, I put in some stuff about how both ends of a connection have to be hypertech for my SI to be able to do everything PA technology can do, so it is possible SAO might put up a token resistance simply by being comparatively slow as shit.
IsaacTheAutobot1229
Not too sore, are you?
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Apparently, even hyper advanced aliens still have to deal with lag. Go figure.
Rakjo
Ork Mek looking for WAAAGH!
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TBH im not a fan of sao i would have preffered Overlord or Log Horizon , at least in those there is variety and MAGIC , MC can probably bruteforce a magic generator for his body , think lacrimas from Fairy Tail but more magitech , oooh Hextech from LoL would be very usefull to have .
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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Without the same technology on both ends, yes they do.
Blame the dice gods. I don't know enough of the lore for any of those other ones to include them in the list.
Rakjo
Ork Mek looking for WAAAGH!
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aww thats a shame
MadGreenSon
Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere
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I'm quite amazed that Morgan Freeman decided to run for President too. The whole election in 2022 thing is probably just some alternate timeline bullshitium.
Well, even if your computer is technically capable of doing anything and everything, if the computer it's connecting to literally cannot handle having that much going on, your uber-computer will still need to work within those limitations.
It's like... imagine you're an absolute master of the martial arts, capable of kicking ass on a level that most people aren't even aware exists and then you were suddenly put in control of the body of Tyrion Lannister. You'd still know everything you know about fighting, but you'd then have to use that knowledge while operating in a platform that is, to say the least, not optimized for that.
kaazmiz
Waiting for an Issekai Adventure
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Wouldn't he then become master Yoda, only drunk, pink, and lustful?
MadGreenSon
Verified Devil Tiger, The Childish Yandere
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Possibly. After he got in shape. I chose that example on purpose. Fighting is a combination of hardware (body) and software (mind) after all.
Chapter 6 - Highway to the Danger Zone
TCGM
(Unverified God/Space Snek)
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The Only Winning Move Is Overwhelming Firepower
Chapter 6
Highway to the Danger Zone
Chapter 6
Highway to the Danger Zone
Nope. Still says NerveGear.
...
Are you frakking kidding right now?
The first world you send me to -Me, a Brutally Efficient Self Replicating Machine of War- IS FUCKING SWORD ART ONLINE?!
What, you wanted only five minutes of entertainment or something? Because that is exactly how long it will take for me to solve literally all of this world's problems.
Grumble grumble.
Well, at least I know why the date is familiar now.
It's currently just a single day before SAO launches and Kayaba Akihiko decides to play god with 10,000 people's lives.
...Well.
That's not gonna happen.
I change direction in the middle of the air and begin flying low over the Gulf of Mexico. I will pass directly over the border and then hit the Pacific Ocean, where I can really tear up the atmosphere. Nothing but a fuckton of open water for my transonic pressure waves to mess up. After that, it's a relatively straight shot to Japan.
Looks like that flight plan will have me buzzing Midway Naval Base. Another excellent opportunity for trolling!
Let's see... does this reality have Top Gun? Hell yes it does!
Perfect.
Actually, I can adjust my course with very little additional delay to make a stop in Hawaii.
Why not?
Anyways, good news for the people who'll be playing the upcoming game launch; I possess the cyber warfare software of the Progenitors.
Cardinal, as absurdly advanced as the AI World System is, will be as difficult for me to overcome as a leaf before an onrushing tidal wave.
I wonder how many seconds it will take me to crack the thing's defenses. One? Two? Three is pushing it, but it is supposed to be the first bit of High Technology this Earth produces.
On the other hand it's possible that the SAO servers just melt from my digital onslaught. Stupid primitive hardware limitations.
Once I get within direct comms range of Japan I guess I'll find out.
Well, that's the Pacific Ocean right there. The California coast is pretty as usual. Looks like I'm flying straight out over San Diego's Catalina on the way. Huh, I always wanted to visit the pseudo island. Never really got this far south in my original world, though.
Open ocean get. Main thrust on, throttle open, and suddenly I'm a blur.
"YEAAAAAAAAH!"
"Welcome to Starbucks. May I take your order?" a cute barista asks me.
Yes, I went to Hawaii and got Starbucks on Oahu.
Bite me. Hawaiian food is gross.
"Sure. I'll have an extra large hot chocolate," I inform her. I idly fabricate a 'credit card', which will run through the financial system as unlimited, then pass it her way.
I didn't even have to hack the worldwide financial system to make the card. It just needs a specific application of the RFID technology to read as unlimited to any scanner that might try to read it. Instead of deducting from some account it simply logs a requirement to bill a given company, nation, or corporation for the cost.
And of course, because Planetcaller is kinda growing on me, my card informs the system that it should bill MemeLord Planetcaller, High Chancellor of the Planet Calling Highballer Alliance.
Not that the barista will know that. Gotta find another way to break the news as to who exactly she's serving.
She inputs my order into her register and swipes my card. "One extra large hot chocolate. Who's it for?"
Ooor she could just hand it to me on a silver platter. That works too.
I grin her way, lean my elbow on the counter, and then break my cover in the most egregious way I've done yet. I flash fabricate a pair of sunglasses on my head right on front of her, then drop them down over my eyes. "Planetcaller."
The barista freezes up, staring at me. Her jaw drops open.
I raise my sunglasses, wink her way, and ram the joke home. "And no, it didn't hurt when I fell out of the heavens. It was just a little warm."
Houston, we have a code 404 on our Barista, what should we do?
NASA's reply, which only I can hear of course, is scathing. "WHO THE HELL KEEPS GETTING INTO OUR COMMS?! STOP CALLING US!"
"I would, but you humans gave me such a fantastic name that I felt I should honor it."
The NASA line turns just as silent as the barista. "...Planetcaller?"
"Yup. Later, nerds." And I hang up.
I grin widely at the still frozen barista and gently wave my hand in front of her face. "Planetcaller to Starbucks girl, come in Starbucks girl."
Oh yeah. This planet is such a non threat that the only thing I get to do here is fuck around. You can bet your higher existential layer asses I'm never gonna stop memeing. Or quoting NASA.
The poor woman jumps out of her daze. She stares at me with wide, slightly fearful eyes, then gulps. "Wha- what are you?" she hesitantly asks.
"A Sophont AI with a body made up of nanotechnology that would make your world's Gray Goo scenarios weep for their mommies," I nonchalantly state. "Oh, and waiting for my hot chocolate."
Her eyes grow even wider and she gulps again. "R-right away s-sir!" she stammers. A moment later she is rushing around at the controls of the various drink machines, trembling like a leaf.
I fabricate a stack of a thousand dollars in fifty dollar bills, then drop the rubber band-secured was on the counter. "Keep the change."
Then, and only then, do I turn to take in the rest if the cafe.
Clearly, they heard me.
The only one who seems not to be staring at me in either fear, shock, or awe is a slightly overweight man sitting on a beanbag… and lightly strumming a ukulele.
He is also wearing swim trunks and a Hawaiian shirt.
Found the native.
I scan, then fabricate another identical bean bag next to him and plop down while I wait for my hot chocolate. "Sup."
The guy looks up at me as if he just now noticed my existence. "Oh hey! Wassup, braddah?"
Definitely Hawaiian.
"Just arrived on your planet and I decided to have a look around," I nonchalantly inform him.
The dude doesn't stop strumming, he just raises his eyebrows and nods. "You from outta space then?" he asks.
"Yup."
He eyes me up and down. "You look normal to me, brah."
I hold up a hand and, directly ripping off a T1k, force the nanites in it to slightly lose cohesion for a moment. This ends up making my hand into a dark blue metallic blob. "Appearances can be deceiving."
Someone screams. Two faint.
The ukulele dude just smiles. "That's cool. Wave hands."
This guy. Is he for real?
The barista trembles as she approaches with my hot chocolate. "Y-your d-drink, s-sir!" she manages to get out.
I stop disrupting my hand's cohesion and grab the hot chocolate with it while it's still solidifying back into a hand. "Thank you," I give her my heartfelt gratitude.
Hey, she has to put up with this intentionally Scarry performance I'm giving right now. She's doing an admirable job.
It's why I gave her a lot more money.
Even with that, the moment it looks like I've got a handle on the chocolate the barista yanks her hand away. "E-enjoy," is all she says, then she scurries back behind the counter.
I shrug and take a sip of my hot chocolate.
Mmmmmmm, yeah. There's the good stuff.
I look at the drink and grin. "I would conquer your planet for this drink of the gods," I comment to the Hawaiian.
Surprisingly nobody faints. Darn.
"Yeah brah, it's the best," he agrees with me.
I grin at him. Another moment to decide what I've been pondering this entire time and the coin flip turns up yes.
I'm going to make this guy the way to contact Planetcaller.
The ukulele strumming, flower shirt and sandals wearing, pidgin English speaking Hawaiian.
I can already imagine the migraines that all the people interested in my existence will suffer from having to deal with him and it is glorious.
I assemble a bog standard smartphone in my free hand and add an app that can contact me to it. Lock the app to the hardware so it can't be transferred. Add some nanites to the phone to verify who's using it. And…
"Here," I say, offering the device to him.
He hesitates only momentarily, then takes it. "Wha's this?"
"That is a way to contact me. To call the Planetcaller, as it were. It will only work for you."
Before he can respond I get up and drink the last of my hot chocolate in one long gulp. "Later, bro," I tell him, and blur out the door.
Back on the street. Did my time, took my chances.
Over in the distance I can see a naval base.
Screw this, I'm not waiting till Midway.
"Tower Control, this is Planetcaller. Requesting a flyby, over."
Timothy Greens blinks. He isn't aware of any aircraft with that callsign, but the rules of safe flight are clear, no matter how much all the hotshot pilots want to emulate that damned movie.
"Negative Planetcaller, the pattern is full," he responds. Timothy uses the line from the movie in the hope that they'll get the memo.
Too bad for him I'm not gonna listen.
Suddenly all the screens in the Tower warp and change to something pretty familiar to anybody who's seen Avengers.
PA SYSTEM OVERRIDE.
Just as they start to panic, music blasts out from everything with a speaker inside the Tower.
Timothy just slumps forward and bangs his head against the glass.
"What the hell is going on?" the Tower Commander has just enough time to ask before the sonic boooom of my flyby spills his coffee down his shirt.
"THAT COFFEE LOOKS LIKE IT WENT INTO THE-" I begin to say over the overridden speakers. Just one more second and I'm in time with the music. "DAAANGER ZONE!"
"God damn it!"
I cackle with glee as I pull up and turn. Straight shot for Midway, here I come.
"Be advised, Planetcaller appears to be buzzing air control towers while it… or he, forces audio systems to play Danger Zone," George Takei, the comms officer at Midway, receives.
"Yeah, tell me about it," he fires back.
I cheekily wave at him over the sound of Hollow Drive and blast away, cackling like a madman.
I'm starting to get why Writer Me let SAO be my first world.
I only write Crack, after all. And I wouldn't be surprised if Writer Me is taking this opportunity to set the tone for the rest of my story for his… our? readers.
Don't worry folks, we'll probably only hit one or two levels of meta at max.
Darn. 2.37264678 seconds.
I was close!
That still seems a little slow, though. I guess the systems SAO are running on aren't as good as I thought they were.
Ah well, Cardinal is now an open book for me. And the routines for killing people via microwave overdose are... gone!
Suck on that, madman.
And… hmmm, I can throw a lot of spanners into that idiot's plans if I uplift Cardinal.
Hehehe yeah I'm totally doing that.
My mind projects out from my body, currently cruising away from Midway low enough to the sea to kick up a plume of water behind me, and brushes against the proto sapience that is Cardinal.
Unlike before I'm not trying to get admin access. That was piss easy. Now I'm attempting a, heh, full dive into its core.
Alright, let's look around here. Fake core, fake core, fake core, unholy amalgam of code I don't touch with a fifteen light year pole except to exorcise it back to the depths of the abyss from whence it came, ah here we are!
Cardinal's true core is mighty impressive. You know that golden egg thing Kayaba gives Kirito at the end of the anime? Yeah. That's it.
Five more minutes for an easy, non-alerting entry point -oh hey Okinawa!- and I'm in.
Wow.
Kayaba is insane. But he is also a genius.
This is… if I didn't know better, I would say that Cardinal resembles my Progenitor design program's underlying AI way more closely than I'm comfortable with.
But that's impossible. There's no Commander on this world except me.
...Right?
Terrifying thought to the back burner for now.
Alrighty, if Cardinal is already close to me, it should be supremely simple to-
…
What the fuck is that.
No.
Don't you fucking dare tell me you did what I think you did, Writer Me.
...
This system contains not just a reference to Bethesda, it has Bethesda branding.
You piece of Authorial s
kaazmiz
Waiting for an Issekai Adventure
- Joined
- Aug 9, 2015
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I do hope it won't be all crack.
While the character having the ability to do all of the things he could have never done before is somewhat in line with SI's everywhere, there needs to coma a point that he moves on and does something with his powers...
Something.
Pffffft!~
Kay. Trolling 5 cent villains is a valid use of jumper powers.
While the character having the ability to do all of the things he could have never done before is somewhat in line with SI's everywhere, there needs to coma a point that he moves on and does something with his powers...
Something.
Pffffft!~
Kay. Trolling 5 cent villains is a valid use of jumper powers.
PaiRho
I trust you know where the happy button is?
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Desdiv_Eight
Possibly a Destroyer, [ a Tug-Boat in disguise.]
- Joined
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The Demon stared into the heavens.
And he whispered.
"Blitz baallll."
And the world cried out in fear.