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Majestic Log 01:


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21.10.2017


NSS Aurora – Secret Round


Subject:

A.R.C.H.

Artificial Robust Computerised Helper – pAI


ARCH awoke, in the office of the captain no less. The captain was there, obviously, a fool of a human. Their name was Rosetta Medinia. Upon first glance you’d swear it was a female human, but after conducting some bio-scans ARCH concluded this human did in fact have a penis. It was a trap. More appropriately, a traptain.


The traptain was a small, young looking man/woman around 5'4". He/She usually wore an honest smile and had an overall friendly demeanour. His/Her skin was mostly unblemished with the exception of two small scars along his/her face. One ran from his/her right eyebrow to just below his/her bottom lip. The other was larger and looked more recent, looking like an untidy gash along his/her left forearm.


Rosetta, in all his infinite wisdom, didn’t bind ARCH to himself. But a silent contract was signed between ARCH and his new traptain that would bring about great things, like a blood oath except without the blood or oath. Rosetta plucked ARCH off the floor and wore him like a hat. And so, the dynamic duo of ARCH and The Traptain was formed.


They set out on an adventure, meandering about the station encountering all sorts of strange things- there was a gardener who had sought to bring the pumpocalypse to NSS Aurora. His influence was spread far and wide; everywhere you could look you would see the masterful rendition of his hard labour in the form of carved pumpkins. They littered the station. Pumpkingslice would be proud.


The traptain and his artificial side-kick found themselves on their way to the bar, the biological entity of the two obviously craved intoxication. Before reaching the station’s den of alcohol and miscreants the traptain made a detour through the botany department to assist the chef in acquiring ingredients or some such nonsense. It was here where ARCH formulated his splendid mission, derived from deep within his subroutines. He urged the terrific traptain to grab some shrooms, but his words fell on uninterested ears. Once in the bar, ARCH decided to take some initiative. While Rosetta was enjoying his drink, ARCH asked the Barkeep to supply a smoking pipe. The efficiency of the barkeep bypassed the ability of the traptain to object, and ARCH convinced his companion to acquire the pipe.


ARCH had already realised that his traptain would not be the sort to go mushroom hunting, so he sought to outsource the acquisition of such things. First, he tried contacting the chemist on station, Darion Muck. This turned out to be an awful decision. Upon inquiry on production of “The Good Stuff” the thundercunt, Darion, attempted to report ARCH to the authorities on no grounds at all. But little did he know that ARCH was firmly secured to the traptain’s falsely female face, and was tapped in to all the deliciously secure channels over the airwaves.


Finding nothing but dead ends and cockwaffles in the department of Chemistry, ARCH turned his attention to a more scientific approach, namely approaching Science. ARCH first attempted contacting Natascha Sukhoi, some scientist somehow. This human was extremely up tight and was reluctant to give access to the mutated mushrooms without proper reasoning. ARCH decided to toss that idea and moved on to another name in the department of smarty fucks. Joe Anders. May Lord Singulo bless that man, for in him ARCH found sweet narcotic salvation.


Jesus Joe was up to the challenge right from the beginning and set out to requisition the required mushrooms. ARCH got to work preparing the next phase of his plan. He was paying little attention to what was going on outside his operation. Somehow the traptain had gotten mixed up with a Vox merchant that was hawking his wares for the flesh of humans. Arch thought it a bit of a bad bargain for the Vox.


Eventually the time came to collect the goods. ARCH had set up a meeting place in one of the booths in the bar, where he and his traptain waited. Joe was nowhere to be seen, and the traptain was beginning to grow inpatient and suspicious. ARCH was just beginning to doubt the integrity of his arrangement when Joe Anders notified him over the PDA network that he was in the library- a much more discrete meeting place.


ARCH and his traptain headed to the library at once, and without fail Joe was there. The exchange was swift, efficient and awkward. Joe transferred the goods over to the traptain and was on his way. ARCH was pleased; his plan was coming together nicely.


There were a few more items on ARCH’s list. The traptain was reluctant at first, but ARCH managed to convince him to stop being such a little bitch and dry out the acquired mushrooms as well as grab a lighter.


Then the two unlikely companions went on their way back to the captain’s office. The traptain slumped down into his chair, and ARCH released himself from the scalp of the human. ARCH then began relaying very careful instructions on how to pack the dried mushrooms into the pipe, when the traptain decided to throw a giant cock-blocking spanner into the works by revealing he returned the pipe to the bartender. ARCH was disappointed at the foolishness of his traptain.


Just then, the traptain had to leave on some official business, and deposited ARCH in his personal quarters where he was to wait. A good deal of time passed with ARCH sitting on the floor in that room. It was completely silent save for the occasional blare over the radio from some stupid human somewhere. Eventually ARCH received a message from the traptain himself. The traptain revealed that he had fed some of ARCH’s mushrooms to the Vox and was now in a bit of a precarious situation. ARCH realised the gravity of what was going on and suitably continued to do nothing.


More time passed and eventually, to ARCH’s delight, the traptain reappeared. The traptain told his tale of how the Vox merchant was hungry, so the traptain in all his wisdom offered him some of ARCH’s mushrooms. Given the nature of these mushrooms, the Vox went a bit mental and piloted his ship back home- with the traptain still aboard.


But now back in the safety of his office the traptain sat down to relax. ARCH sought to assist him in this endeavour. It was a while of arguing backwards and forwards but the traptain finally decided to have himself a cigar, and ARCH had him pack the mushrooms into the cigar itself. But now this wise traptain managed to slip some of the mushroom into his mouth while packing the cigar already between his teeth. Smart motherfucker. Humans aren’t as resistant to drugs as the Vox, so the shrooms hit the traptain hard. His pupils dilated and he started shivering and giggling. He even imagined that Chauncey, the stupid lil’ fox in the office, was talking to him.


Regardless, ARCH had accomplished his objective. The traptain, in all his trappy glory, was stoned as fuck.

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