With Ariadne confined to the Sword of Damocles med-bay, and Ton busy overseeing the salvaging of the Camelot Knight Commander Mordred Damodred was left with only his own thoughts and his armour’s operating system for companionship, all the Knights and squire’s were tending to their own important tasks, or otherwise unavailable, which as usual meant that the chirurgeon had not cleared them for service or even considered them sitting upright in bed to be a good idea.
As such Mordred found himself leaning on one of the guard rails of a overpass that allowed non essential crew to cross the bridge of the Sword of Damocles without getting in the way of the essential crew, the definition of which was simply , those needed to fly the ship, or tell the pilot where to go. It was a simplistic view however it had proven it’s worth on multiple occasions. The overpass also served as a sort of hidden retreat although only few used it in that manner, in fact Mordred was relatively certain that he was the only one that did. For him it was a sort of sanctuary. “Go over the numbers again Gwenn” He sighed, as he requested Gwenn34 to try and figure out what happened to the Camelot for the fifth time since he had dropped of Dame Ariadne at the chirurgeons, for some reason parts of the other vessel had refused to interface with the A.I. which could indicate damaged sections, and logically it should have been just that, except the sections in question were undamaged, and all the manual overrides functioned well enough. Then there was the matter of the planet that was a ship, he knew the world consisted of debris and collected space rubble that had stuck to the ship’s hull, the explanation for atmosphere was feasible and frankly it made sense to him, aside from a small tidbit that bothered him, the planet was marked on their star maps, there had been a planet here long before the Camelot ever even left earth’s wharf to embark upon it’s quest to bring the universe to heel under humanity’s rule. So if there had been such a world, then where was it now? And if the world that was the Camelot was in fact the world on the star charts then how in the blazes did the Camelot end up inside it? And fully intact no less? Gwenn ran the simulation, with visual aid this time, showing how a ship to planet collision would turn out, the first variant showing the ship tearing itself apart upon entry, as it was never built to do so, the second variant showed a different angle, the ship remained intact until impact, burning the atmosphere, then rupturing upon landing, fuel chambers bursting, the third variant was even more horrifying as it depicted the planet literally exploding as the enormous vessel ruptured the worlds crust, allowing a molten core to decompress. All in all the simulations were the stuff of nightmares.
Sullenly Mordred lowered his head as he watched a single white mouse scurry across the flooring grates, only to fall through on of the holes, down below on the bridge a squire mumbled something about getting it back to its proper place when it hit him. The Camelot could not have been here! It’s course should have taken it into the opposite direction, even with optimal fuel, maximum speed, and a full 360 degree turn the Camelot should not have been able to be here, let alone without anyone knowing of it.
With renewed determination Mordred strode back to his chambers, he would need to link Gwenn34 to a proper physical buffer, possibly even need to make a back up first. “Sir may I stop running the numbers? It is rather tedious to redo over and over again.”He would also need to tell her his plan, after all she was integral to it.”Yes Gwenn, and then we should have a decent talk.”There would be much work ahead of them.
Angrily Ton punched the wall next to the terminal before reentering his clearance code, the result was the same. “My apologies, You seem to have the wrong code, hence I cannot grant you acces beyond these doors.” It didn’t matter how often he tried his own code, or even Knight Commander Damodred’s code, the blasted thing just refused it. That however was not the main source of his irritation, the main source was the A.I. itself, a far older program than Gwenn34 the 3Stan had a male identity core program, and wouldn’t you know, it had picked it’s King’s voice as its own. “Just open the door you stubborn old amalgamation of parts!”moments after yelling it Ton already regretted his choice of words, as well as losing his temper with a machine. Remarkably however the door started to open as the voice of Arthur intoned, “Password accepted, bellum se ipsum allet, Knight.” Ton frowned at the A.I.’s words, why would it state that war nourishes war when opening a door, then again Arthur had been mad, maybe the A.I. was too, a chilling thought, as it controlled life support. Which was where Ton was headed, in order to verify the state of the air filtration system, it was however not where the door had lead, instead he found himself in the Camelot’s armoury, surrounded by hammers, swords, axes, spears, and excessively old guns, and armours. Normally he would be elated to find such a well stocked hold, weaponry was always in short supply, especially during campaigns that lasted over a decade, since there were precious little resupply depots on the way, and to say he was displeased at finding it might be the wrong choice of words, he was however severely displeased by his apparent inability to find the air filters. Until he saw it, set right in the center of the room, the most rare type of munitions there was, not because no one could fabricate them, but simply because of their value, and the risk of being held up by pirates should they learn of it. Before him stood a full box of bunker busters. The situation seemed too good to be true, especially as , when he lifted the box he recognized the pedestal it had been set upon for what it really was, a emergency tactical command interface. Finally his luck had turned in his favor, finally he could carry out his orders properly, finally he had a single centralized computer that was interconnected to all the ship’s major systems, and had command override authority. Sir Ton smiled as he accessed the ship’s main computer manually, “Good day, Sir Knight, would you like a system diagnostic tool to run in the background?” Sir Ton’s smile faded like snow before summer, his skin took on a deathly pallor, as suddenly his mouth felt too dry to speak.” Y, Yes please, and then Identify please.”The words sounded more akin to a dying man’s wheeze than a Knight’s voice, but he had a good reason for the terror to grip his heart.”Affirmative, I am the Camelot’s operating system user interface program, designated: Morgana, serial number A.7, are you feeling well,Sir?” The decidedly female voice asked as Sir Ton’s heart sank.