Wednesday, August 17, 2011

[Fanfiction] Mission 001 RPG - First Heero Post

Piloting a mobile suit was nothing like piloting a jet or a space shuttle. A mobile suit was a complex structure with appendages like that of a human being. Unlike a fused, single piece vessel, one had to take into account at any moment where each arm and leg were located while in battle, the stance of the suit, the distribution of weight, and how the next attack would be executed from this position.

That was why operating systems were so important. Super computers could anticipate the pilot’s moves and prepare the suit for the next assault or defensive maneuver. They could take control of thrusters, automatically lock on to intended targets, stabilize the suit in any form of terra or atmosphere, and sift through the billions of terabytes of data collected and present to the pilot those facts and pieces of information that are necessary to perform a mission.

Operating systems, or OS, were developed to make piloting easier. They were intended to optimize the piloting experience, and with these optimizations came more sophisticated suits with abilities that a single human couldn’t begin to control. The OS became an assistance tool, and then gradually over time was given a form of artificial intelligence (AI) with the simple goal was to seek victory against the target it was directed at, along with providing safety for the mobile suit and pilot.

The Mechanical Extrasensory Intelligence operating system, or M.E.I., was nothing like anything Heero had ever experienced. Unlike its predecessors, M.E.I. didn’t assist the pilot. Rather, it questioned. It doubted. When it made a suggestion, and the pilot didn’t commit to the same mission plan, it would punish. Its goals were not to seek victory and protect the pilot, rather to seek its own preprogrammed missions and keep the mobile suit from receiving damage, while training the pilot to submit to its desires.

The simulations had been enough to prove to Heero that this was going to be no cakewalk. M.E.I. was the single most frustrating thing he had ever gone up against, and he had done so for days on end. The observers who cycled through to watch his training all nodded their heads and muttered statements of approval as he fought tooth and nail against the fucking system, nearly driving himself mad with its constant disagreement with his piloting style.

He just didn’t understand it. Why would they develop an operating system that had its own goals and intentions? Why would they even bother putting a breathing, free-thinking human in a mobile suit that wouldn’t submit to the pilot’s commands? They could have easily created another mobile doll operating system with M.E.I. without wasting the resources they had on training pilots to sit within her and argue.

There had to be a reason. Heero just hadn’t had the time or energy to devote to figuring this out. The training regimen had been exhausting and he had finally found himself at his physical and mental limitations. He couldn’t sleep. He could barely eat. He found himself obsessing over the things M.E.I. had ‘corrected’ him on, wondering what the rationale behind each ‘correction’ had been. The system never told you why you needed to change your course of action; it just insisted that you did. Only his raw willpower could override the system. Whenever he did override its decision, he always seemed to find the same result. Despite his positive outcomes the M.E.I. system never recalled his previous decisions. It never took into account his past fighting history, style, or preferences. It just reset itself, and forced its odd requests upon him over and over again.

It had no frame of reference. It was single-minded and had tunnel vision. It wanted something done a certain way, with minimal damage to the suit, and it would force the pilot to do what it was programmed to. Again, why would they need a pilot?

It was as if M.E.I. was training the pilots to be just like it.

Heero had never seen any of the other potential pilots in action. He wondered if they were fighting as much as he was with the system. Maybe they had all submitted? He wondered why they would keep him in the program knowing that he was not cooperating well with their precious operating system, let alone give him a prestige mobile suit?

There was a lot about this organization he didn’t understand. He still didn’t understand the power play between Odin Lowe and Noah. The kid would show up for inspection once a day, walk through the pilot barracks and generally stomped around as if he owned the place. Heero hadn’t seen Odin since his strange request of him and Solo almost two weeks before. Was there anyone else in power, aside from Lowe and Noah? If so, what were their goals? What was all of this for?

The dull ache that had settled in his brain a few days before began to flare up. He closed his eyes and sighed, blocking out the image of the internal cockpit of the Aequitas suit. The low frequency hum of the power modules were the only sound aside from the occasional beep and turn of the Haro unit that sat neatly in its dock just to his right. It was dark. There were no monitors in this suit, something Heero had never experienced before. The control panels were all backlit in a pale, white-blue light. Holographic switches and touch monitors glowed faintly just in front of him. There were no thrust pedals, pulleys, levers or any mechanical controls at all. Duo’s words from a few days before echoed in his mind.

M.E.I. will show you what you need to see…

It was a frightening concept. How was he supposed to pilot a mobile suit efficiently with only an operating system showing him what he could and couldn’t see? He tensed and opened his eyes slowly, seeing the red glowing eyes of the infrared sensors scattered throughout the cockpit. He didn’t trust the operating system to present him with the data he would need to pass this test. He knew this wasn’t going to end well. He knew he should just submit to the operating system and do as it said, but that wasn’t what the organization wanted, was it? They seemed pleased he was fighting with the operating system. Were they expecting him to troubleshoot its decisions for them? If he submitted, would he be taken out of the program for being too weak? If that were the case, then he wouldn’t have access to Aequitas. It could jeopardize their mission and possibly set them back on their data collection.

He had to do this. For the mission, and for the safety of others he would attempt to overcome this operating system, complete his infiltration of this organization, and provide the Preventers with vital data required to prevention of this sort of technology being produced in the future.

“AE-02. Prepare for sortie.”

Heero recognize the voice of Lt. Edgar, the man who had been overseeing his training along with the other elites. The man seemed decent and knowledgeable enough.

“AE-02, standing by.” Heero said plainly, looking down at the Haro. It bobbled in its dock and turned to look up at him. “STANDING BY. STANDING BY.” It chirped loudly while swiveling 180 degrees.

Heero didn’t know what this training exercise would be. They had been towed out with the mobile suits deactivated to the meteor belt. After the airspace had been cleared they were left in random locations along the belt and told to wait. It had been an hour, and Heero was tired of waiting. He wanted to get this over with. He wanted to know how M.E.I was going to be in a real mobile suit, under real assault.
He sighed deeply, but found his flight suit constricting and the series of straps holding him to the strange seat tight and unforgiving. He felt like a prisoner, being held against his will, anticipating inevitable torture.

Edgar’s voice spoke up again from Heero’s earpiece. “M.E.I activated. Good luck, Ritter.”

“ACTIVATE. ACTIVATE!” Haro practically screamed. Heero saw the little ball’s eyes brighten. The humming of power around him grew louder and the suit jolted with energy, coming to life. He felt a throbbing sensation in his arms. His skin puckered and the hairs on his head and the back of his neck stood up. He felt as if he were being sucked back against the seat. His arms grew heavy and his feet were dragged even more firmly into their stirrups. It felt as if he were magnetized and stuck to the seat. He couldn’t move them. His eyes began to swim with spots, and then he saw his vision darken. Or was it the cockpit that had darkened? No. He couldn’t see. His heart began to race. He was growing uncharacteristically panicked. He couldn’t see. He couldn’t see the cockpit, the glowing controls, or Haro.
Just when he was convinced he had lost his vision a flash of yellow flickered across his eyes. He felt a sharp jolt of electricity surge through his body.

“M.E.I. fusion, complete. Pilot accepted. John Ritter.” The familiar flat tone of the M.E.I. said from all around him. No… it wasn’t around him. It was inside him. Heero took in a ragged breath. The yellow light in his eyes vanished, and when his vision focused he realized what he was looking at. The meteor belt. The external of his suit. He was looking out through the suit’s optical camera. He was seeing the space around him from the perspective of the suit.

It was in his head. It was seeing the world through him, with him. He tried to move his arm again. He felt his arm rise. He saw the suit’s arm rise. He reached over to touch the opposite arm. He felt the sensation of metal touching his flesh.

Never in Heero’s life had he ever thought something like this would be possible. He had seen many advances in technology in his life, but this was something he never thought he would ever see, or experience. He wondered what Dr. J would say if he knew the world would have had such a thing as this.

He had become his mobile suit.

“Attention, pilots. Please, acclimate yourself with the controls. You have sixty seconds.” Edgar’s voice echoed through Heero’s skull, agitating the current ache in his temple. Heero flinched and reflexively grabbed his head. The mobile suit responded, mimicking his intended movements.

How did he move? He attempted to walk forward, but it didn’t do anything but tip his suit forward slightly. He was in space. He would need to activate his propulsion, but how, without anything to use as a controller?

“M.E.I., explain propulsion in fusion mode.” Heero found himself saying, hearing his voice doubled. He was hearing his internal thoughts, and hearing his physical body vocalizing as well.

“Fusion Mode. Pilot is fused with M.E.I. system. Piloting and maneuvers in fusion mode are achieved through mental processes, only.” M.E.I. stated.

“Mental processes,” Heero thought. Did he only have to think about what he wanted to do? He sighed and concentrated on a dark, gray and jagged meteor gliding past the suit. He thought about encircling it at specific speed, while pulling his right arm with his cannon up to a ninety-degree angle against himself.

And it happened, seamlessly. He tried it again. Again, the mobile suit adjusted its propulsion and thrusters to do as he commanded. He just needed to stop letting his brain think about how to move his physical body.

Thirty seconds later he had figured it out. It was as if his physical body encapsulated within the mobile suit didn’t exist. He was slowly becoming more and more accustomed to the fact that the mobile suit was now his new body. His brain was now sending its impulses straight to the suit, cutting out his human form within entirely.

“AE-02. Prepare for assault. Three mobile suits approaching 67.922 degrees, astral plane 4, weapons drawn. Destroy enemy suits.” M.E.I. supplied.

Heero readied his weapons. He was no longer himself. He was AE-02, an Aequitas mobile suit, prepared to destroy the targets. And he would. Nothing could stop him, not even M.E.I.

.

The mobile suit landed effortlessly on the landing dock, and was immediately dragged inside the hangar by large electromagnets attached to its feet. Once the pod had been pressurized the mobile suit was taken to its docking bay by two large cranes. It was locked into place. The catwalk was lowered in front of it and the external lights dimmed. Heero felt everything happening outside, but couldn’t see a thing. There were no external cameras, and with the M.E.I. system deactivated by the control tower, he could do nothing but wait until the hatch was opened manually.

His body was weak and trembling. He stared down at the control panel in front of him, and at the happily singing Haro twisting and turning on its dock, lamenting “MISSION COMPLETE. MISSION COMPLETE,” joyfully.

“Mission… complete.” Heero found moving his own mouth difficult. Blinking was exhausting, and breathing was growing more and more difficult by the minute. How weak and feeble he felt in his own flesh, as opposed to the indestructible power he had felt as a mobile suit only minutes before. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the mechanical act of breathing, feeling his heart palpating erratically at the absence of the electrical impulses the M.E.I. system had been feeding him while he had been piloting. He felt unstable and as thin as a sheet of paper. He heard the hatch open and opened his eyes the best he could – only a millimeter or so – to see Duo and Solo peering in at him. Large, reflective violet eyes were scanning him with concern. Solo’s previously cool and unattached posture was now one of stiff apprehension. He wondered with amusement if they thought they would be opening the hatch to see a corpse.

“I… was hit.” He said weakly, gesturing with a heavy tilt of his head down to his right leg. The flight suit had been singed open and a hole three-inches in diameter had been burned through it, down to his flesh that appeared reddened and was peeling. It matched where his mobile suit received damage from an unlucky shot from another Aequitas suit. He hadn’t anticipated friendly fire into the equation, but it had happened. He heard Edgar chastising the other pilot over the comm. He wondered if he would see Pilot Trexis in the barracks tonight.

“It is just as we thought, but more intricate. M.E.I. doesn’t just punish you, it makes you the suit.” He didn’t know how ridiculous the other two thought this sounded, but it was the only way he could describe what he had experienced. He coughed and lifted his arm weakly to cover his face. He wanted to laugh. He had forgotten to breathe. He took in a few deep breaths, established a steady pattern, and then said hoarsely, “It was amazing.”

And dangerous. And risky. And completely horrifying that a rogue group possessed this form of advanced technology.

Read more: http://mission001.proboards.com/index.cgi?board=general&action=display&thread=9#ixzz1VISEDlbu

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