Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Suit Up And Step Out

Jack paced back and forth in front of the Mess Hall door with a manic, restless energy. While the adjutant had merely suggested he 'refer to the provided list' when he inquired about other people being present repeatedly and with increasing desperation, he clung to the idea that this could be some sort of elaborate prank. Whoever was in charge could simply command the AI to tell him whatever they needed for the sake of a joke, and the AI couldn't exactly snitch on them... right? That has to be it. It has to be. 

By now, he had given up asking the Adjutant for how much time was remaining until the reinitialization procedures- whatever they were- completed. He almost didn't want to know, feeling the minutes slip away from him. Every single one that left bringing him closer and closer to finding out the truth, when the door before him opened. 'Please be a prank. I won't be mad. Okay, I will be mad, but I'll pretend not to be mad. Laugh at me, anything, as long as I'm not really here by myself.' His thoughts were going at a frantic pace, and when there was a hiss of air escaping from some hidden mechanism by the heavy doors, it made him jump almost a foot in the air, twisting his head to stare and resisting the urge to crouch down to see under the door sooner.

The fact that he couldn't hear anything aside from the grind of metal gears and hissing hydraulics of the door was hope-crushing. Even in the best of circumstances, there was always that one guy who couldn't help himself from giggling when you wanted to plan a surprise party or a prank. That, or someone would shuffle in place, scraping their boots against the floor and giving themselves away. But there was nothing. The cheerfully lit room filled with carefully arranged tables benches bolted securely to the floor and a long serving counter off to one side offered no comfort. Even a beat-up looking jukebox in the corner, with the colorful lights and the tinny, poor-quality repetition of a song he didn't recognize only made everything seem all the more eerie. 

He was alone. Completely and utterly alone on an alien planet he knew nothing about. Okay, almost completely alone. That snarky AI Adjutant certainly didn't count for much, but having anything to talk to that could actually reply to him might help keep him from going completely insane. Jack made his way forward and dropped down onto one of the cold metal benches and leaned his back against the lip of the table, elbows on his knees and his head dropping down to rest in his hands. The excitement of getting to experience what it might be like to be in his favorite game was sternly overshadowed, now, by his concern. At least in his experience from the game, a command center with a single worker- a fact that would only remain accurate assuming he could figure out how the SCV worked and pilot it himself- was an abysmal place to begin.

A shrill, cheerful chime from his right ear broke him from his moping, the Adjutant's mechanical tones picking up afterward. "Attention, base reinitialization has been completed successfully. Work shifts are now in order. Pilot 21283 is currently scheduled for a shift under assignment: gather minerals. The base will require a daily upkeep of minerals in order to function properly. Additional minerals may be harvested to be used in production." An expression somewhere between incredulity and anger formed on Jack's face, all but shouting at the AI, "Are you serious right now? You're trying to tell me to buck up and get to work? I have to keep this place up and running on my own?"

"The current number of available assets is undesirable, but unable to be rectified at this time. Pilot 21283 is advised to begin obtaining minerals as soon as possible, both to ensure an ample supply of power to maintain base operations, as well as a surplus that could be used for a variety of purposes. Suggested use: a sensor tower, to better get a bearings of the current surroundings and prepare to receive any incoming signals. This location was chosen as an emergency landing site after hostile wildlife attacked the facility, but may not be significantly safer. There are no hostiles in the area currently, nor were there at time of landing. Alternative use: military defenses. This facility lacks the appropriate permissions to manufacture weaponry above the 'emergency hold-out' grade. Such weapons are meant to deter piracy, rather than hunting or fending off larger wildlife. Pilot 21283 may wish to prepare for the eventuality of discovery by the local fauna that forced relocation in the first place. With an appropriate support facility, automated defenses such as the anti-infantry Perdition flamethrower turret or the anti-aerial Longbolt missile turret can be constructed."

Jack found it hard to fault the logic, as what he could only assume was a fully operational military encampment had been forced to evacuate by the local wildlife. He needed to be prepared for something more vicious than wolves. "It wasn't Zerg forces, was it, Adjutant?" His voice wavered as he asked, but he needed to know. Hostile wildlife was bad, but if there were Zerg on the planet, as soon as a single one of them found his new base location, all of them would know of it. After all, Zerg were a hive-minded race of biological devourers. Cohabitation with them was beyond unlikely. "Negative. While Zerg presence cannot be determined for the entirety of the planet, none have been sensed at either the previous location, or the new landing zone." Well at least that's one minor relief. It was just your normal, everyday man-eating beasts rather than an endless tide of hive-minded ones. "Alright. Well, considering this command center is my only lifeline going forward, I guess I had better get to work. How long until whatever material reserves the facility has are depleted?" 

There was a long pause without a reply from the Adjutant, followed by a positive-sounding chirp of affirmation. "Pilot 21283 is temporarily cleared with managerial access to station resources. All individuals with access, as well as those who would be better qualified for this position based upon work history, are unable to be reached. Congratulations on your field promotion, Pilot 21283." Was it really necessary to go out of the way to insult him? Jack was the only one here at all! He was kept from making a retort as he felt a strange buzzing sensation near his eyes, followed by 'HUD Activating' hovering before his vision like some sort of augmented reality. 

Ah, there it is! At least a little piece of familiarity in this chaos. The top right of his vision had the traditional overlay of resources he expected from Starcraft, a little blue mineral cluster with a counter of 400, a little green cylinder with a worrying readout of 0, and an outline of a man with the reading 1/10. "Adjutant, how concerning is a lack of Vespene gas? I know it's used in production, but..." The mechanical tone began to lecture him again, "Vespene gas is a primary source of fuel for most vehicles, starships, machinery and devices. The facility used all reserves of Vespene gas to utilize the heavy thrusters to relocate the command center from danger. Almost all non-infantry assets will require Vespene gas to produce, as well as to operate. The command center, thrusters aside, can operate on merely the power produced by a mineral-utilizing fusion reactor." As if on cue, the counter for minerals ticked down to 399, but remained steady from there. At least it didn't seem to use the minerals at a desperate pace. If he needed thousands of minerals a day, he wouldn't be able to keep up even if he didn't sleep! 

"I guess I better get started on it, then. Alright. Give me directions to where the SCVs are being kept." Overlay-enhanced on his vision, the floor heading back out of the mess was displaying a sequence of green arrows, starting to guide him back down the hall and toward a right-turn some ways down it. "SCV." The robotic tones corrected. With a confused expression, Jack remarked, "Yes, that's what I said? I need to get mining for minerals, so I'm heading to the SCVs." "SCV." The correction came again, and this time Jack seemed to catch on. "You're telling me that this command center has a single SCV available?" The positive sounding chirp indicated a confirmation in his ear, and he sighed explosively. "Great. Start production on a second SCV using available supplies, please." 

"Confirm expenditure of 50 minerals from emergency stores?" Dismissing the question with a hand wave, he nodded along, "Yes, yes. Spend them. You have to spend money to make money, and harvesting is going to take too long with just one SCV." The brief pause before the Adjutant's smooth 'Affirmative' seemed to come across as doubtful, simply because of the hesitation. "Construction of the next SCV will be completed in 12 hours." Jack winced a little at that number, "Turning seconds into hours in production time, huh? That's going to hurt in the future. Well, hurt more." The 349 in the top right of his view goaded him to get to work, and he continued following the guidance of the green arrows until he arrived in a spacious hanger bay. Spacious for a human, at least. The twelve-foot tall mechanical suit resting in one bay nearly scraped the ceiling. 

Jack tipped his head back to stare upward at the glorious dented and scuffed chrome of plating of the bipedal walker. There was a narrow perch near the chest of the walker where a pilot could cram themselves in to operate the controls, the transparent screen that 'defended' the user currently raised up and out of the way. The left arm was a series of insultingly basic grabbing appendages, little more than a few fingers of articulated metal, while the right arm was tipped in a massive boring drill that protruded straight from the wrist of the machine. "A whole lot more impressive to look at than the little economy-bugs scampering around to harvest I'm used to seeing on a screen..." he muttered to himself. 

Walking over to the SCV, a lifting machine carried him up in the air until he reached the chest of the framework, and climbed into his spot. In his case, 'cramming into the seat' was very much apparent, as he was rotund enough that his stomach almost nudged some of the lower buttons on the controls and he had to suck his gut in to secure the straps across his chest that would assist in keeping him steady. The controls looked simple, at first glance, as he could slide his arms into two thin tunnels at either side of him to control the arms manually, with a series of switches at his fingertips. Flicking on the ignition, a deep, bass rumble emitted from the machine, the screen lowering from above to encase him in the machinery, indicators of limb status and power charge coming to life. It was usefully color coded, and this one was showing all green except for the right arm that housed the drill which was tinged with yellow. "As long as it works..." Jack muttered to himself, sliding his arms into the appropriate position to pilot. 

How did he know he was doing it in order? Well, the overlay on his sight seemed to be giving him the step-by-step walkthrough to turning things on and coaxing the SCV to life. A clasp disengaged from the machine's back and the power readout went from 100% to 99% almost immediately, indicating he was unplugged and good to go. And that he shouldn't stay out for too long or he might get stranded. "Adjutant, open the SCV bay door." The thick plating of this door made the one to the Mess Hall look like it was made out of tinfoil. It took two solid minutes for the door to creak open, and there were almost five meters of angular, interlinked plating that lifted into the ceiling and out of view. This was clearly an external wall. Clanking and whirring, he took his first toddler-like wobbling steps toward the exit. "Easy. Easy. I can afford to fix this, or even replace it a few times over, but that doesn't mean I want to..."

It was so vibrant out here. That was the first thought Jack had, after being cooped up in the steel-grey of the command center's interior for hours on end. The sun- no, suns- were high in the sky, two burning orbs of fire beating down over ankle-high waves of grass. Of course, ankle-high on his twelve-foot-tall mech was saying something. There wasn't a tree in sight, or any more significant sign of life. Just grass all around in rolling hills that somewhat limited his vision, and a big rocky outcropping of dark earth. Not enough to be considered a mountain, it was more like someone had cracked open one of the nearby hills like a geode and bared the dark soil within, if half of the hill was missing. Glittering gold-hued gems formed massive crystal formations on the cliffside, almost seeming to glow from within. "At least there's one bit of good news!" Jack exclaimed, as the golden variant of minerals was significantly more valuable than the traditional blue-hued variant. 

Kssh. THUMP. Kssh. THUMP. The whirr of gears and hydraulics mingled with the weight of each step. He felt like a titan in this massive armored suit! It was a nice little power fantasy, up until he turned around and backed away a few steps to try and judge the scale of the command center behind him. While the games always depicted it a small building, the curve of the circular outer wall near him rose a solid fifty feet in the air, and he couldn't begin to judge the internal space. Small receiver dishes and antennae prodded upward from the surface now and again, finishing the look. "And I have to keep the place running myself. Great." Back to task, then. He marched himself over toward the mineral patch, right arm flexing against the grip and nudging a switch experimentally. 

The huge drill began to churn in a slow circle that amplified in intensity when he squeezed down on the grip, and he brought it to the base of one of the crystal nodes. "Do I just...?" he began, before the overlay indicated a spot for him to begin to drill that would break off a chunk of the minerals his manipulator hand could manage, and followed through. Crack some off, grab it with the manipulator, and swing it around to drop it over his shoulder into a storage receptacle that was almost backpack-like. Again, and again, as the twin suns overhead eased in a leisurely swing toward the horizon. It's going to be a long day. 

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