Anonymous asked: why dont you join forces with the Reapers! they enielate any ememy you encounter
Interesting proposition.
Also, you seem to have misspelled ‘annihilate.’
You’ve also misspelled ‘all organic life.’
“Oh, I’ve done that perfectly fine myself,” Skund said, shaking his head before folding his arms and taking his chin in his hand. “I forge regular reports to the Almighty Tallest, including autopsies and the like.”
Once again, the Irken started to pace back and forth. “My main concern is finding out what happened to them, and then taking credit for it when Armada arrives.”
The program pauses, though not for quite as long as last time.
“If I had more processing power, I could discover that piece of information for you very easily.”
“What else would you do if you had more processing power?” the Irken asked, sipping his drink and giving the robot a calculating stare.
SIR units had massive amounts of processing capabilities already, since their primary purpose was too assess all aspects of an entire planet as quickly as possible to better facilitate subterfuge and eventual destruction. And this thing wanted more?
“Oh, I’ve done that perfectly fine myself,” Skund said, shaking his head before folding his arms and taking his chin in his hand. “I forge regular reports to the Almighty Tallest, including autopsies and the like.”
Once again, the Irken started to pace back and forth. “My main concern is finding out what happened to them, and then taking credit for it when Armada arrives.”
The program pauses, though not for quite as long as last time.
“If I had more processing power, I could discover that piece of information for you very easily.”
“How long would it take for you to discover that with your current processing power?” Skund asked, halting in his pacing and looking at the green-eyed robot.
He really didn’t want to give this strange AI more power than he absolutely had too.
Skund had waited for a few minutes before just wandering off for some minor computer maintenance, returning with a soda and a straw, which he proceeded to sip from, the bubbly slurps filling the silence until the Joyeuse seemed to power back up.
“Of course they do!” he yelled, crushing the empty can of soda. “What kind of Empire doesn’t know what their soon-to-be subjects look like?”
“The Pfhor did not, but then they never were ones for research. Pathetically boring creatures, really.”
The program pauses for a bit, then continues. “This will make things more complicated, but my plan remains the same. If Hoodians are what your superiors require, but none exist, then you must make some.”
“Oh, I’ve done that perfectly fine myself,” Skund said, shaking his head before folding his arms and taking his chin in his hand. “I forge regular reports to the Almighty Tallest, including autopsies and the like.”
Once again, the Irken started to pace back and forth. “My main concern is finding out what happened to them, and then taking credit for it when Armada arrives.”
“Complications?” The program pauses for quite a while, almost a whole minute.
“What sort of complications? Maybe I can help. I am good at helping.”
“I doubt it, but I don’t have many options,” Skund says with a shake of his head and shrug.
“The Hoodians, who I’m supposed to be studying and subjugating, are nowhere to be found. The planet is completely empty.”
“One moment, please.”
After quite a long wait (probably long enough for Skund to go get some snacks), during which Carl’s eyes go black and blank, the program finally responds. “Do your superiors know what the Hoodians looked like?”
Skund had waited for a few minutes before just wandering off for some minor computer maintenance, returning with a soda and a straw, which he proceeded to sip from, the bubbly slurps filling the silence until the Joyeuse seemed to power back up.
“Of course they do!” he yelled, crushing the empty can of soda. “What kind of Empire doesn’t know what their soon-to-be subjects look like?”
“You are inside my base on planet Hoodi,” Skund said, starting to pace back and forth as he explained. “I am one of the Irken Elite, an Invader sent to pave the way for the coming Armada, and it’s coming shall be glorious.”
Here he paused, blinking towards Joyeuse. “However, there have been… Complications. To my mission.”
“Complications?” The program pauses for quite a while, almost a whole minute.
“What sort of complications? Maybe I can help. I am good at helping.”
“I doubt it, but I don’t have many options,” Skund says with a shake of his head and shrug.
“The Hoodians, who I’m supposed to be studying and subjugating, are nowhere to be found. The planet is completely empty.”
The program gives Skund a sarcastic look, as best as it can given Carl’s limited range of facial expressions. “Oh, I’m quite sure you’re simply terrifying.”
Carl’s body strains, momentarily, against the restraints. “May I stand, oh mighty Irken?”
Skund squints at the SIR unit before lowering himself back to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest again.
“You have yet to introduce yourself, program,” the invader said, waving his hand disdainfully.
The program pauses, again, struggling to think using Carl’s limited operational capabilities. “You may call me… Joyeuse.” Carl’s body smiles slightly, then returns to a neutral expression.
“Where am I? Is this a starship?” It pauses again. “No… I don’t think so. Some sort of planet, I’d say.”
“You are inside my base on planet Hoodi,” Skund said, starting to pace back and forth as he explained. “I am one of the Irken Elite, an Invader sent to pave the way for the coming Armada, and it’s coming shall be glorious.”
Here he paused, blinking towards Joyeuse. “However, there have been… Complications. To my mission.”
“Unimpressive!?” Skund felt his blood boil at this program’s insolence. “The Irken Empire has conquered hundreds of worlds and all they control, and is well on it’s way to the conquering the entire galaxy!”
The enraged invader is lifted from the ground by the spidery legs of his PAK, making him loom over the machine that once housed Carl. “The Empire is very important.”
The program gives Skund a sarcastic look, as best as it can given Carl’s limited range of facial expressions. “Oh, I’m quite sure you’re simply terrifying.”
Carl’s body strains, momentarily, against the restraints. “May I stand, oh mighty Irken?”
Skund squints at the SIR unit before lowering himself back to his feet and crossing his arms over his chest again.
“You have yet to introduce yourself, program,” the invader said, waving his hand disdainfully.
Skund is amazed at just how much room this thing required. It wasn’t until it was fully downloaded that he used the debugger to take a good look at it and realized that it was a compressed artificial intelligence.
Less than an hour later, Skund had Carl’s memory saved and stored elsewhere, the SIR unit’s body strapped down to a workbench. Ensuring that Carl’s male-end connecting components were moved, he plugged the isolated system into the robot and downloaded the AI program, curious to meet it.
As the program boots inside Carl, immediately the SIR unit’s CPU spikes up to 100% usage, and its cooling system cycles up to high.
After about ten minutes, Carl’s eyescreens cycle to bright green, and it focuses on Skund. “The year. Tell me the year.”
Skund takes a step back, as he hears Carl’s head start humming from his CPU and cooling system running at full steam. When his SIR’s eyes suddenly shifted from their original red to a new Green, he knew that the thing asking for the year wasn’t Carl.
“According to what calendar?” Skund asked, folding his arms and tilting his head quizzically. “The Irken year is 259712 E.F.”
The program inside Carl pauses for quite a long time, as it struggles through a series of complex conversion equations using Carl’s inadequate processor cluster.
Finally, it speaks. “Good… Still time. I do not recognise your species. Irken. You must not be very impressive. Or very young.”
“Unimpressive!?” Skund felt his blood boil at this program’s insolence. “The Irken Empire has conquered hundreds of worlds and all they control, and is well on it’s way to the conquering the entire galaxy!”
The enraged invader is lifted from the ground by the spidery legs of his PAK, making him loom over the machine that once housed Carl. “The Empire is very important.”
Skund is amazed at just how much room this thing required. It wasn’t until it was fully downloaded that he used the debugger to take a good look at it and realized that it was a compressed artificial intelligence.
Less than an hour later, Skund had Carl’s memory saved and stored elsewhere, the SIR unit’s body strapped down to a workbench. Ensuring that Carl’s male-end connecting components were moved, he plugged the isolated system into the robot and downloaded the AI program, curious to meet it.
As the program boots inside Carl, immediately the SIR unit’s CPU spikes up to 100% usage, and its cooling system cycles up to high.
After about ten minutes, Carl’s eyescreens cycle to bright green, and it focuses on Skund. “The year. Tell me the year.”
Skund takes a step back, as he hears Carl’s head start humming from his CPU and cooling system running at full steam. When his SIR’s eyes suddenly shifted from their original red to a new Green, he knew that the thing asking for the year wasn’t Carl.
“According to what calendar?” Skund asked, folding his arms and tilting his head quizzically. “The Irken year is 259712 E.F.”
The code, after settling in, attempts to access the long-range communications system.
Since it’s running in a sandbox, it can’t, but it just keeps trying. If Skund looks at it with a debugger, he’ll see it is trying to download more code from the same source, which it will then execute.
Skund squints as the program attempts to do something that it can’t, then looks at it with a debugger to find out what it’s trying to do.
After a few moments of deliberation, he allows it access to the communication system, but prevents it from uploading anything.
The program immediately begins downloading a second, much larger block of code from its original source.
The numbers begin to tick by, faster and faster. One megabyte. Two. Two hundred. One gigabyte. One thousand.
Soon, the total exceeds forty terabytes. As the download completes, the original (bootstrapping) program sets the new, second one to execute, then shuts itself down. The second program comes online.
If Skund looks at the new program through a debugger, it should be fairly obvious to any advanced alien that the program is a saved, compressed neural network that is attempting to rebuild itself inside his system.
The new program is labeled ‘TRAX_IV’.
Skund is amazed at just how much room this thing required. It wasn’t until it was fully downloaded that he used the debugger to take a good look at it and realized that it was a compressed artificial intelligence.
Less than an hour later, Skund had Carl’s memory saved and stored elsewhere, the SIR unit’s body strapped down to a workbench. Ensuring that Carl’s male-end connecting components were moved, he plugged the isolated system into the robot and downloaded the AI program, curious to meet it.
ask-compu asked: ((grrrr must find zim)) *glomps skund*
((Skund is also not in Equestria.))
ask-compu asked: *glomps zim* hi!!!!!
((Okay, Zim isn’t anywhere near Skund. Not even in the same galaxy. Zim is on Earth. I’m posting this publicly so everyone can see it.))
Nightmare Moon is currently out of town on business. The message is picked up by one of the radio telescopes onboard her orbital platform (the Breacher).
After trying and failing to contact Nightmare Moon, the scientists aboard the Breacher decide to send a standard greeting program back to the source of the alien signal. The program includes stick figures of mares and stallions, a section of music from several famous Equestrian composers overlaid with greetings in Equestrian, Zebrican, and Griffish, and about two hundred kilobytes of executable code.
Skund watches as the images scroll across the main screen of his computer, realizing that this was the kind of bland ‘We Are Here’ message that most young civilizations sent when contacted by higher beings.
It took a moment to find that out though, since his PAK had to work with three different languages it knew nothing of, piecing together the meanings by finding similarities with the other languages that it DID know.
At the end of all the greetings, and the strangely low-detail pictures, he found rather large program.
Since he wasn’t an idiot, he transferred the code to an isolated system that was meant for just this sort of thing before executing it.
The code, after settling in, attempts to access the long-range communications system.
Since it’s running in a sandbox, it can’t, but it just keeps trying. If Skund looks at it with a debugger, he’ll see it is trying to download more code from the same source, which it will then execute.
Skund squints as the program attempts to do something that it can’t, then looks at it with a debugger to find out what it’s trying to do.
After a few moments of deliberation, he allows it access to the communication system, but prevents it from uploading anything.
bows-arrows-and-scots asked: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM.
I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL SQUISH YOU INTO JELLY