The horror of the poke...

[lukexcom]

It was supposed to be a normal day. I was up in the bridge of this large walking tank. In essence, it was just an oversized duplicate of a normal human, only 100 times taller.

There was something wrong with my captain's chair. It was....uncomfortable, as if though someone had changed the dimensions of it and put hard plates under the smooth, silky, black leather. No matter, though. I had a job to do, and so did the rest of the crew of this Quantadyne T-100 Light Walker. Exactly human in appearance, but very tall, it was like the giant mech robots of the old, 20th century sci-fi stories. This particular walker served as a scout. Light weapons, not much armor, but a very sophisticated sensor suite, and a brand new, top-of-the-line central computer.

We were performing a routine scan of a location that was only described to us as the "Archival storage and Mining facilities of the base complex.", when Lt. Snide the tactical officer behind me said, "Sir, I'm reading an anomalous energy spike, off the port quarter....10 o'clock, sir, range about 3 clicks."

"Thank you, Lt. Snide. Intel said to expect some energy spikes here, supposedly from an old, outdated power grid."

And with that, I waved off the anomalous reading. After all, intel did say to expect little or no enemy resistance. As it would turn out, that little mistake would cost us dearly.

"Sir, we've finished the sensor scans of the primary target. Shall we scan the secondary targets as well?", asked tactical.

"Why not? The mission is going perfectly. Proceed, Mr. Snide." I responded. My next order went to Chief Petty Officer Mendelovich, who was manning the helm for this shift. "Helm, new course 230, speed 10 knots. Stop at the next navpoint. Keep her slow and silent, Mrs. Mendelovich."

"Yes sir." came her reply. Short, simple and to the point. Just the way I liked it.

We arrived at the destination a few minutes later. Tactical started the sensor sweep. When I turned to look at him, he seemed a bit disconcerted. I asked him what's wrong. He replied, "Sir, something's wrong....I'm getting a strange energy spike, and it seems to be...moving, sir."

My instincts were telling me that something was very wrong. So I said, "Mr. Snide, scan the area around that energy spike. Lets see if we see anything."

Tactical proceeded, and reported back with some strange news. "Sir, I don't know how to explain this, but I'm getting a strange gravitic and spatial disturbance around the spike. Whatever it is, we can't see it."

This was turning out to be too strange. "Tactical, put up a visual of the anomaly on screen.", I ordered.

The picture presented there seemed normal on the first glance. The set of buildings were there, the reactor complex in the distance, a gigantic magnetic rail gun launcher sending off raw materials into lunar orbit and the lunar landscape was perfectly still, and undisturbed. Earth, no larger than a dime, hung slightly above the horizon, in the same way that Niel Armstrong first saw it so many decades ago. A picture-perfect scene. But all was not right with the picture. There, to the left of the main building, by the gigantic, industrial magnetic railgun facility entrance. A slight blur. A slight refraction of light and the surrounding background. A slight shimmering, a disturbance to the natural peace of the lunar surface.

"Tactical, what is that?" I asked.

"Unkown, sir. Appears to be another walker. Could be some sort of advanced cloaking technique." tactical responded.

"But how? If it's cloaked, it's just for visual detection. We should have still picked it up on our new seismic sensors," I asked. Nobody answered.

I proceeded to the next question, "Do we at least know if they've detected us through our cloak?".

"Unknown again, sir." responded Mr. Snide.

Cloaking techniques by now were well mastered by the Northern Alliance, a loose confederation of most of the northern hemisphere countries, allied against the Southern Conglomerates, a collection of the larger southern hemisphere countries led by gigantic transnational corporations whose budgets exceeded all but the top 3 nations on Earth. We were, of course, of the Northern Alliance, scouting out an enemy base on the moon.

The cloaking system used on our scout was the newest generation of light emmitting photocells. Essentially, the maintenance techs back at the base would "dress up" the walker in a special suit, where the outermost layer of the suit was completely covered in advanced, light-emitting and absorbing cells, each interconnected to each other by a fiber-optic mesh underneath the skin. The cells on the back of the walker would detect the light coming in, and would send the information to the central computer, which would proces the information, and send the right signals to the cells on the front of the walker, which then emitted the appropriate light frequency assigned to them. Essentially, the front cells displayed the image of whatever was behind us, giving us a very effective cloak. Of course, it worked best if we were walking near a wall of a building or some other massive object, like a vertical cliff of a mountain range, and all the targets were in front of us.

The inner layers of the suit were built mostly of radar-absorbant material, to minimize the radar cross-section of the suit. The innermost layer of the suit was a metallic, copper-based mesh that served as a large heat-sink for the walker.

The walker was completely built from organic materials, to avoid electromagnetic detection. As such, it needed a pressure suit to function in near-vacuum environments. This pressure suit was worn underneath the cloak suit. It also served as a heat conductor, drawing heat away from the walker, through the pressure suit, and out into the cloak suit. The only problem here was that space had an ambient temperature of only 1/4th a degree above absolute zero. This would limit us severely, were it not for the fact that we were operating on the "near side" of the moon, where the temperature soared to inhospitable heights. So infrared detection wasn't a problem either. We'd just wait for the ourtermost heatsink and our coolant to reach the ambient temperature, and then maintain it at those levels, until our refrigeration pack ran out of coolant. Heat disposal was a bigger problem than ever in a walker these days.

And so we waited to see what our unknown walker would do. Would it detect us? Would it miss us? The stress levels soared on the bridge, and the apprehension was nearly unbearable. These were our lives at stake here.

The energy spike that we believed to be a walker with an advanced cloaking system was nearing our position. About 300 meters away from us, the energy spike dissapeared. The bridge was dead quiet. We were rigged for silent running by now, to prevent micro-seismic tremors to the ground underneath us, but who knew how effective that would be. Intel said that the base had sophisticated seismic shock detection systems.

Suddenly, tactical spoke up. "Sir! Enemy walker decloaking, 12 o'clock, dead ahead! Looks like a Garden Gnome class walker, a Heavy Weapons Assault Platform!"

I yelled, "General Quarters! Decloak and shields up! Helm get us out of here, to the dropship, best speed! Combat officer, bring all weapons to bear on target and fire when ready!"

Meanwhile, tactical continued reporting on the situation, "Sir! Their shields are already raised and they're bringing their main batteries on-line!"

And with all of this commotion, in such an urgent situation, the Engineering officer said, "Sir, the primary reactor is overloading! We need to shut something down, sir!" That's when it hit me. We were still running those energy-comsuming sensor scans, and it was draining massive amounts of power from the reactor! I quickly responded "shut down all scanners now!"

Tactical had more bad news on the way. "Sir, their bringing their main batteries to bear on us!"

I gave out another set of orders. "Comms, signal the dropship for reinforcements! Combat officer, fire when ready." The combat officer responded, "Sir, weapons are still charging up....we need 30 more seconds!"

But that wasn't enough time. The Garden Gnome walker in front of us had us right in it's boresight. There was a gigantic rocket launcher attatched to it's shoulder. In horror, I watched as a rocket was launched from the launcher. It streaked towards us, and I closed my eyes as it was about to impact the hull. The last thing I remember before falling on the deck and going unconcious is feeling the walker shift to the side, with helm screaming "We're losing balance sir! The walker's going to tip over! We're sealing all bulkeads now sir!", and a loud noise reverberating through the walker. It sounded a lot like a poking sound...like that....that infamous.....POKE!

The horror.....the horror....

[Brother-Captain Gaius]

LOL ...ah, the creative outlet for a traumatized n00b.

......*poke*

I think not, comrade.
*tazers him*
~Pablo

[Soontir C'boath]

ROFL.....ohhh maaan.....*poke*

A nice short story.

Cyaround,
Jason

[Crown]

Welcome to SD.net, I don't poke. So, welcome.

[Shinova]

Noice.

And you must know that you have not been truly poked until you are poked by the







*POKE*



And also:







*POKE AGAIN*




Welcome to stardestroyer.net. Enjoy your stay.

[Pablo Sanchez]

Noice.

And you must know that you have not been truly poked until you are poked by the...

Do not tempt the wrath of the commissar. It is my Wong-given duty to protect the noob from unreasonable harm, and being a good little commie, I'm going to turn that inch into a mile given a chance