“We have at least two weeks of rock-dodging before us,” says the autopilot, “why don’t you tell me the story from the beginning,” (again, thinks the governing AI, but the captain has no idea -or real interest in knowing- that the autopilot can think.)
The captain takes a cigarrette from the dent in the dash where he keeps them, “ok,” he says, “just after I was unwired into a clone (part of my redundancy package from ImpMark) I was hanging around the Titan-exits...”
The autopilot cannot help itself but unspool data from it’s archives, even though it is the 152nd time it has done so:
[unwired: Imperial Marketing (ImpMark) drone-soldier slang for decantation into a new medium. Drone-soldiers are typically waste humans stripped of inessential organs and neurally integrated (‘wired’) into the control systems of gun-platforms. End of tour drone-soldiers are decanted into standard human clone bodies.]
[ImpMark: contraction of Imperial Marketing (c.f. comintern), strap-line taking the message to the millions, the military arm of the Ascension.]
[(moon)-exit: hyperspace intrusion into realspace (c.f. wormhole) engineered to orbit gas-giant moons, where confluence of violent magnetosphere and deep gravity well is conducive]
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