The Arr Chronicles

[Sonnenburg]

If you aren't familiar with the Arr Chronicles, it's about a ship called the USS Arr (which about sums up the level of maturity in the piece) run by a collection of psychotics within the Confederation. This is part 5, the previous parts being available in the Fanfic archive. This is being simul-posted on ASVS.

The Arr Chronicles, Part 5

The Confederation Starship USS Arr sailed through the vastness of space with resolution and purpose. The only thing it lacked was direction.
“Uh, heading sir?” Buddy Steel asked at the helm.
“Forward.”
“Wise choice sir.”
The Arr was at the moment, the only ship to survive an encounter with a threat to the entire galaxy: an unstoppable cloud of nanite ships. Trillions of vessels capable of channeling firepower to such intensity that nothing could stop its destructive path. It was up to the crew of the Arr to find a way to stop them.
Everyone caught up? Good. It’s too late to go back and cover the whole thing again.
Armstrong, first officer of the Arr, had convinced the headstrong Captain Buck Random to forgo brute force for scientific analysis. Given that the captain’s motto was: “If brute force can’t solve it it’s not really a problem,” this was significant. The only problem was that, given Random’s attitude, if science failed this once it would always be given second place to brute force from now on.
“I’d like to set course for Halusted III,” Armstrong said to the captain. “I think that would be a good place to start our investigation.”
“Halusted III,” Random said thoughtfully. “I know that planet…”
“That’s the planet where we first met the nanites.”
“No, it’s…” Random rubbed his chin. “Oh wait, it was. It’s… no, it was the… no you were right. Nanites. What about ‘em?”
“Perhaps there’s information about them there,” Armstrong said patiently. “It’s the most logical place to start.”
There was the sound of a clearing throat, which was an achievement consider that the person in question didn’t have one. Armstrong glanced over at the science officer, who was a brain floating in a jar, yet nevertheless managed to look smugly at him. “Did you have something to add, Mr. QQQQ'LD'JLG-CH-!NONEK?"
The brain sighed. “Oh just call me ‘Nonek’ like the dumbass does! It’s obvious you’ll never figure out how to pronounce my name. Besides, simple minds think alike. Anyway, to answer your question, yes I do have something to add. First, don’t say ‘logic’ again. It’s like hearing a whore say ‘celibacy.’ Second, I couldn’t help but your stupid plan and would like to point out that it is, in fact, stupid. I hope you understood that, or else I could ask the troglodyte at the weapons console to explain it to you.”
“Really,” Armstrong said with a huff.
“Yes, really,” Nonek said, refusing to back down. “Allow me to point out just a few of the problems with your plan. Problem number one: the planet was decimated, which means the odds of any useful data surviving are minimal.”
“But possible,” Armstrong said defiantly.
“It’s possible I crapped you out of my nonexistent ass,” Nonek said without missing a beat, “yet did that happen? I don’t think so. I think I’d have remembered that. Point two, even if the data was there it was probably encrypted, and we don’t have time to decipher it. Three, you’re ugly. Four, considering how the data affected the systems back on Halusted III it’s fairly likely that the data could act as a virus and spread this contagion throughout our ship too. Good plan fearless leader, perhaps we can just drop an Exodus Missile on Earth and save some time.” Riprock looked up rather excitedly from the weapons system, but the two officers ignored him. “Point the fifth, calculating the risked loss of time versus the benefits we’d glean from going there are so simple even the dumbass knows better. Sixthly, is the data even compatible with our systems, or will we just magically compensate for a different system of programming? Seven…”
“Okay, I get the point,” Armstrong said.
“Really, it only took you ‘til seven,” Nonek said. “I didn’t give you that much credit, I’m impressed. But I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that, Seven: we’ll be letting the nanites get even further away.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Point Eight. Is that your head or did your neck throw up?” Armstrong threw up his hands and stalked back to his chair while Nonek continued. “Point Nine, you didn’t consider that the probability of finding useful data at recent targets is much higher than at the site of their first attack…”

The fifty members that composed the engineering team stood at attention. Zero, the lead engineer, paced back and forth before them as they vibrated like guitar strings. “Men,” he said loudly, “we have explored the spectrum, and we have made it our own. But now, a new challenge has arisen. They say candy striping is impossible, that it cannot be done. Well men, I don’t believe in can’t, or won’t. I don’t believe in don’t, ain’t, not, negative, and perspicacity. In fact, I don’t believe in anything I can’t spell, like pneumonia.” They nodded in silent agreement. “And today, we will prove them all wrong.”
Zero held his breath. The trembling grew fierce, like a bowl of jello on a trampoline. His eyes swiveled left, then right.
“Do it.”
The room exploded into complete stimulant-fueled mayhem.

“Point Seventy-two: Any computer data is no doubt obsolete considering the rapid evolution of these creatures.” Nonek again cleared his absent throat. “Point Seventy-three, the nanites have destroyed eight planets since our initial confrontation. While scientific investigation is all well and good, maybe it’s time to follow the lead of the dumbass on this one. Point Seventy-four…”
“Wow,” said Buddy, “I had no idea what a bad idea that was.”
“Lucky thing he’s not the captain,” Riprock agreed.
Random stood up. “Do we have a football yet?” he asked loudly. “No? No damn football!” He sighed loudly. “I’m going to the workout room to box with a kangaroo for a while. Call me when we have a football.” He stormed out.
“…some bad body odors in my time,” Nonek said, “but you take the cake. I mean, I can’t even smell!”
“Buddy,” Armstrong said loudly, “set course for the site of the last attack. Maximum speed. And Nonek,” he said to the brain, which had just started into a dissertation of what rodents Armstrong resembled, “if you’re so smart, I’m sure you can figure out a way to stop these nanites before we get there.”
“Oh, an appeal to ego,” Nonek said. “I never saw that coming. Perhaps you’ll try some reverse psychology on me next. Or maybe you won’t. Hey, look, it’s already working!”
“I think he’s being sarcastic, sir,” Buddy said.
“Can’t slip anything past you, gopher,” Nonek said.
“Just analyze the data and report back to me,” Armstrong said.
“Okay,” Nonek sighed. “Well gee, that was a really hard tenth of a second there. What do you wanna know, besides how to tie your shoe?”
“You’re finished?” Armstrong asked.
“Okay, time to stop the clue bus, we’ve got a straggler,” Nonek said. “Yes, I’m finished. Do you have a question, oh ye of the sloping forehead?”
“Okay,” Armstrong said, half-hoping he could he stump Nonek, “how does their superweapon work?”
The image of space vanished from the main viewer as Nonek showed them enhanced images of the nanite ships. “Each nanite ship is a perfect geometric shape. Cubes, tetrahedrons, spheres, the occasional triakis octahedron, and one very special ship.” The cloud of ships passed out of view until a single one was visible. “One ship to focus all the energy.”
Armstrong squinted at it. “That’s a…”
“Yes,” Nonek said, “a dodecahedron. Twelve sides…. that’s two hands and two big toes.”
“Yes, I know what twelve is,” Armstrong said sharply.
“Of course. It’s when you get past twenty sides that you have the problem. In any case, you see the problem.”
Armstrong looked at the ship carefully but, knowing what the response would be, had to admit he didn’t. “What’s so special about it?”
“What’s so…?” For the first time Nonek was stunned into silence. “That’s a perfect dodecahedron.”
“Yes?”
“A PERFECT dodecahedron,” he repeated, as if that was all that was needed to get the point across. “You just…” he floundered. “You really don’t understand, do you.”
“Enlighten me.”
Nonek must’ve been stunned; he didn’t take the opportunity to insult him. “It can’t be done. It’s the ultimate shape in every sense. It’s perfection, the beginning and the end, the key to all knowledge and power, it’s…. it’s beautiful….”
Armstrong watched the rotating shape on the screen. “We can cripple their main weapon if we destroy it,” he said.
“No, it’s impossible,” Nonek said.
“One in trillions won’t be easy,” Armstrong said, “but if we-“
“You don’t understand! It can’t be destroyed. It’s designed to manipulate and control energy.”
“You mean, even you can’t find a way to destroy it.”
When Nonek spoke, it was with reverence. “I am unworthy to speak to the mind that could create that. It’s a genius as far above me as…”
Armstrong waited. “As you are above me,” he said, providing the insult himself. “Is that what you were going to say?”
“I have to go lie down,” Nonek said, and his jar floated away. Armstrong watched him go in disbelief then looked back to Buddy.
“It is very pretty, sir,” Buddy agreed.
“Just give me one shot sir,” Riprock said with a grin.
“At ease,” Armstrong said. “Let me talk with some experts on the subject before we go off half-cocked.”
“Ah, something different,” Buddy agreed. “That’ll show those nanites.”

As predicted, Engineering was like an overturned ant hill, if ants were all ranting psychotics. It made a riot look like a wake. If machines had religion, this would be the stuff of sermons about the pains that would await dryers that horded socks.
“Zero!” Armstrong shouted over the racquet. The chief engineer spotted him and began his casual gait across the room, somehow avoiding being hit by the criss-crossing crowd like a witch dancing between raindrops. He offered a cup of coffee that Armstrong politely turned down.
“What can I do you for?” Zero asked, taking a sip himself, then a gulp, then polishing off the cup and crushing it in his hands. The fact that it was made of porcelain didn’t seem to matter to him at the moment.
“I need you to build me a weapon for a most unusual kind of ship.”
“Not a problem,” Zero said, taking a sip out of a mug that somehow had appeared in his other hand.
“They say it can’t be done,” Armstrong warned.
“Don’t believe in can’t, sir,” Zero said.
“Good.” Armstrong held out a pad and activated it. A hologram of the nanite ship appeared.
The only sound that was heard was the sound of Zero’s mug shattering on the floor from where he dropped it.
Zero’s voice had a slight quiver to it. “Is that what I think it is?”
“It’s a nanite ship,” Armstrong said. “We need…” He noticed a sudden calm had gripped the room. The appearance of the hologram had done the work of several crates of valium on the engineering staff. “We need to find a way to stop this.” He was jostled as the crowd gathered around him to get a better look. Two reached out to touch it, but Nine slapped his hand away. Two held his hand sheepishly, apologizing under his breath.
“Sir, is this for real?” Zero asked. “You’re not pulling a prank on us?”
“Chief, I’ve no time for games, people are dying. I need you to find a way to stop this ship.”
Fifty-one pairs of eyes turned to look at him. It was as if he just asked them to extinguish a star with a glass of water.
“I need a cigarette,” One finally said, wandering away from the crowd. The rest followed suit, shuffling away to various parts of the room to sulk or just lie down. Thirty-seven threw up, but somehow managed to do it respectfully.
“What’re you doing?” Armstrong demanded. “We don’t have time for this, we’ve got-“
“Sir,” Zero said, his eyes still fixated on the pad, “you have no idea what you’re asking us. If you’d asked me to reverse a black hole, turn the ship inside out, or turn back time, I’d tell you we’d try, but this…” he gestured at it with reverence and defeat. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”
“It’s just a shape!” Armstrong said hotly.
“Just a shape,” Zero said, as if Armstrong was a child who didn’t understand what death was. “The precision of the design to make a perfect dodecahedron… You’re talking about the work of a thousand generations working precise mathematical equations and complex physical analysis. It’s not just engineering it’s – it’s philosophy and music and… just a shape…” he shook his head.
“I don’t care,” Armstrong said. “Building is hard, destruction is easy.”
“The dodecahedron cannot be destroyed by any energy or craft that we possess,” Zero said. “It was constructed in the fires of a black quasar; only there can it be unmade.”
“Then we’ll-“
“We’ll die,” Zero said. “Any mind that can construct that can never be tricked.” And he sulked off to his station, pulled out an extremely dusty bottle of whisky, and poured a tall glass. He downed it in one shot. “Just a shape….”
The klaxon for the red alert sounded. Armstrong took one last look at the morose group, then returned to the lift.

(c) 2002

[Kuja]

WAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!! OMFG I love it!!!!!! LOL!!!!

"If brute force can't solve it, it isn't really a problem."

Can I put that in my sig?

[Sea Skimmer]

WAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!! OMFG I love it!!!!!! LOL!!!!

"If brute force can't solve it, it isn't really a problem."

Can I put that in my sig?

Goes well with "If brute force isn't working your not using enough of it."


Great fic!

[Sonnenburg]

Thanks guys. Arr is always a lot of fun, and hopefully we'll be able to put out the final chapter tonight.