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Birina Seeks Arcane Technology [FT|Open]

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Birina
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Birina Seeks Arcane Technology [FT|Open]

Postby Birina » Fri Oct 18, 2019 7:38 pm

“I want to say that I'm proud, so proud, to be Birinian." Chairman Miller began, nodding his head slowly as he spoke to the assembled reporters-cum-virtual representations of reporters. Recording drones representing the major news networks hovered above the press corp’s persons, broadcasting his speech through the entire Birin system and beyond. This in spite of the fact that technology sufficiently advanced to create hovering camera drones would presumably be able to create a camera the size of a pin that could be stuck on the wall and achieve the same level of quality as the drones.

“With the invention of the incredibly powerful Sashay Technology we achieved the ability to travel faster than the speed of light.” He beamed at the reporters below as his colleagues on either side shifted uncomfortably. He paused, inviting a question. One was forthcoming.

“How does Sashay Technology work, Mister Chairman?” a portly male reporter called out.

“Excellent question! It works by paying a lot of scientists a great deal of money.”

The reporter paused. “Well… no, I mean, what… makes it go?”

“A lot of scientists missing their children’s birthday parties. Anyway, enough technological mumbo jumbo. Moving on. We’re going to be going beyond our own solar system for the first time ever. And that’s, you know, pretty great, right? Think of all the stuff here and how much more stuff there is in the places that aren’t here. I hope we can all acknowledge that this is a great day for Birina. And it would be great if our detractors could join us in celebrating this great day and identifying themselves. Any questions?”

“Chairman, I must ask. It is my duty to ask.” A large-breasted female reporter who was as inquisitive and troublesome as she was large-breasted rose. “I have to ask what we have been asking all this time: What does this have to do with windmills?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the question, Sonia.”

“You are the Chairman of the Windmill Committee! We’ve given your Committee all this power over thousands of years with the promise that it would help you discover windmills! How does going to space help us invent windmills?”

“Well, let’s start with the facts, Sonia. Do you agree that we are the Windmill Committee?”

“Yes, I just said that.”

“Okay so we’re coming from the same place. Fact one: We both agree that I am the Chairman of the Windmill Committee. Now, do you believe that windmills are worth investigating?”

“Yes, of course I do!” She shouted over the noise of her breasts being large. “Our… entire society has been geared towards discovering windmills!”

“Okay, calm down, we both agree on the facts thus far. And facts are what will ultimately drive the search for windmill technology, which we both agree is at least potentially important. At very least we need to investigate whether or not it’s potentially important.”

“So we still haven’t made any progress discovering them?”

“Well, no, that’s not true. We’ve ruled out several potential uses.”

“Such as?”

“Well, we’re pretty sure windmills aren’t involved with intergalactic travel because we’ve achieved that without their assistance. I’m trying to apply the scientific method, which from observation of scientists I’m fairly certain consists of virginity and crying a lot.”

“It seems, sir, that yet again the Windmill Committee has forsaken their oath to pursue The Great Windmill Endeavor in favor of expanding their own power and hosting many lavish dinners during which no windmills or windmill-related accoutrements were discussed!”

“I’m just as angry as you are.”

“What? But you did it. How can you be angry about it?”

“I agree that an independent committee needs to be established to investigate the Windmill Committee. I will spearhead the creation of this committee.”

A normal-breasted reporter leaned over to her male-breasted colleague and murmured, “If he were guilty, why would he be so willing to investigate himself?”

“And how will the investigative committee be selected…?” Sonia asked, her voice shrill.

“At random.” Miller replied, closing his eyes. He shot out his arm, pointing towards the audience and began moving it around wildly.

“The Chairman of the one-hundred and ninety-eighth investigative committee is going to be… you!” His finger pointed sort of up and to the right of the crowd. He opened his eyes.

“Me?!” A lanky older man shot up and waved. He had been seated rather substantially to the left of where Miller pointed.

“N-No.” another reporter began, “I’m pretty sure he pointed over here.”

“Me?! It’s me?! It’s me!” the older man continued shouting and jumping. Chairman Miller crooked his hand ever so slightly so that it pointed at the shouting man.

“Yes. You are who I selected totally by random.”

“Thank you! I’m so honored! I can’t wait to go to the next windmill dinner.”

“No!” Sonia shouted emotionally, “You’re supposed to investigate the windmill dinners!”

“Sonia, Sonia, Sonia…” Miller tutted at her, “How is he supposed to investigate the dinners, which are a travesty and need to be looked into, if he’s not invited?”

“You didn’t even choose him randomly.”

“He closed his eyes! Everyone saw it, Sonia!” the normal-breasted reporter piped up. Her voice was slightly less shrill than Sonia’s.

How does going to space get us windmills?!” Sonia screeched breastily.

“Well, do you see any windmills here?” Miller answered calmly. “We haven’t discovered them yet-“

Because your committee has misappropriated the funds for over a thousand years!”

“Like I said, we both agree that we haven’t discovered them yet and we both agree that it’s worth looking into. The reasons why they haven’t been discovered are as yet unclear. But I agree that we should establish an independent committee staffed by a randomly selected person’s cousin that I’m friends with to look into that.”

“Oh my God.” Sonia took her seat again, her defeated sighs causing her large breasts to move up and down and her voice to take on a more agreeable tone.

“We’re going to space to find windmills, people. That’s it. Sonia, would you come with me out into the futuristic hallway to my space-study for a private chat?”

“Fine… But why would you call it a futuristic hallway? Or a space-study? Surely, we aren’t in the future. We’re in the present. And even though we’re in space, it’s just a study. Back when we didn’t travel in space but we sailed on boats, we put studies on boats. And we didn’t call them water-studies or ocean-studies, we just called them stu-“

“Future hallway! Now!” He marched out with Sonia and a few drones that were just for decoration following him out. The remaining reporters buzzed with anticipation.

“I really think we’re going to see windmills within my lifetime!” One of them said excitedly to a friend behind them as the door closed, separating Miller and Sonia in the hallway with the drones.

“Why do you insist on fighting the Committee, Sonia?” Miller asked, his deep and responsible voice rising above the unnecessary humming emitting from the floating hover drones’ metallic breasts. He walked across the hall to a door that had “Study” laser etched into it with “Space-“ apparently hastily scratched in so as to append and make it a “Space-Study”.

“You’re a brutal regime that exploits the incredibly noble mission of inventing windmills in order to enhance your own power!”

Miller entered the study and quickly emerged with a glass of whiskey in hand. “Yeah, but like, besides that. Why?”

“I- Are we going into the study or…?”

“I just needed the whiskey.”

“Why?”

“To deal with a goddamn woman.” He threw it back, “There we go. Alright, hit me.”

“I will not stop fighting for the truth. For windmills. For Birina. For Birina to have windmills. For all that windmills stand for. Also I need money and can’t really do anything else.”

“Much like the mighty windmill…” Arthur paused to take a manly swig of another glass of whiskey. He had managed to procure it while Sonia was talking because he wasn’t listening. “I will spin no matter how hard the winds blow at me.”

“Wait, but don’t windmills… want wind-?“

Arthur drank the rest of his whiskey. “That is unconfirmed right now.”

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Postby Katganistan » Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:13 pm

*** Warned for trolling half the population of the world ***. We'd appreciate it if your inappropriate appreciation of breasts were kept to yourself, thanks.

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Birina
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Postby Birina » Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:16 pm

Katganistan wrote:*** Warned for trolling half the population of the world ***. We'd appreciate it if your inappropriate appreciation of breasts were kept to yourself, thanks.


Respectfully submitted: Did you read it? It's satire of men writing women. It's supposed to mock actual writers (such as George RR Martin) who actually write things like that.

For instance, a man is described as male-breasted. This work is actually very feminist in its approach. Despite the narrator objectifying Sonia she is consistently the voice of reason.
Last edited by Birina on Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:18 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Katganistan
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Postby Katganistan » Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:21 pm

Birina wrote:
Katganistan wrote:*** Warned for trolling half the population of the world ***. We'd appreciate it if your inappropriate appreciation of breasts were kept to yourself, thanks.


Respectfully submitted: Did you read it? It's satire of men writing women. It's supposed to mock actual writers (such as George RR Martin) who actually write things like that.

For instance, a man is described as male-breasted. This work is actually very feminist in its approach. Despite the narrator objectifying Sonia she is consistently the voice of reason.

Yes, I read it. It's because I read it that it received a warning. Satire is rather difficult to do well enough NOT to look like trolling to the average forum goer, and oddly enough, having read all of the Song of Ice and Fire that have been published thus far, I do not recall anything as crass in it.

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Birina
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Postby Birina » Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:30 pm

Katganistan wrote:
Birina wrote:
Respectfully submitted: Did you read it? It's satire of men writing women. It's supposed to mock actual writers (such as George RR Martin) who actually write things like that.

For instance, a man is described as male-breasted. This work is actually very feminist in its approach. Despite the narrator objectifying Sonia she is consistently the voice of reason.

Yes, I read it. It's because I read it that it received a warning. Satire is rather difficult to do well enough NOT to look like trolling to the average forum goer, and oddly enough, having read all of the Song of Ice and Fire that have been published thus far, I do not recall anything as crass in it.


One of George Martin's first descriptions of Daenarys is "Her small breasts moved freely beneath a painted Dothraki vest."

That's stupid. Imagine reading him saying "Jaime Lannister's large balls grazed the inside of his leather pants." I bet you would have remembered that. Right?

Why add that description? That is the sort of thing I'm mocking. And the whole point of a caricature is for comedic affect and for you to NOTICE it. You just demonstrated that you do not care or notice when GRRM does it. So obviously to get people to notice it has to be caricatured.

If you didn't think GRRM writing about how his female character's breasts move for no reason (which he did... MULTIPLE times) was crazy and you think caricaturing it IS crazy I'm not sure what to tell you.

Also someone uses breastily as an adjective and you immediately think he's serious? Really? You don't think a post about an intergalactic society that hasn't discovered windmills despite a thousand years of trying and seems to have some pretty grave misunderstandings about how they work... Might be tongue in cheek?
Last edited by Birina on Fri Oct 18, 2019 9:45 pm, edited 3 times in total.

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Qhevak
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Postby Qhevak » Sat Oct 19, 2019 6:43 am

Free Trader Market Fluctuation, 50 AU from Birin System

"...again?" Elen Astaire groaned, their tentacles tightening their grips on the zero-G chair on the wall of the Fluctuation's cramped command room.

"Really gotta trust me this time", Donny Ride replied as he leaned back in his pod seat, smug smile masking a slight hint of worry. "Just hear me out, and you'll know this is gonna be another Sigma Scorpii."

"Sigma Scorpii is the only time you haven't fucked up, godammit." shouted Astaire as they rose from their chair, their anger visible even given their status as an amorphous intelligent slime mold. "We've been driven out of systems at beampoint, what, twelve times now? You tried to fool Liu Xiu with a literal cardboard space station, for Omega's sake!"

"To be fair, we did make more money in Sigma Scorpii than we've lost anywhere else", Kylo Osterhagen noted, his bearlike frame suddenly rising from his usual slouch. The rest of the crew nodded in agreement.

"Dammit." Astaire sighed. Even with his apparent complete lack of anything even vaguely resembling common sense, Ride was a man with the charisma to get his way even on an ostensibly cooperative controlled merchant ship. "At least we're not trying to scam the Toy Theocracy this time. What's the plan?"

"From what we've gathered from radio signals, this system is controlled by a human derivative species that's just managed to develop FTL travel within the last few years and is about to send out their first interstellar starship. Not particularly uncommon in the galaxy, but there's something rather interesting that seperates this one this one from the pack. That is, this one hasn't developed windmills, and their entire society appears to be organized around achieving this goal."

"...the fuck?" Astaire spurted out. "Aren't those really simple?"

"Of course." replied Ride. "From what we gather, this lack of innovation has caused by a pangovernmental organization tasked with developing windmills not putting any effort doing so, and instead using it as an excuse to do anything else they want."

"...Odd" said Osterhagen. "So how are we supposed to make money off of this?"

"Very simply" replied Astaire. "We're currently carrying autofabricators for state of the art nanomaterials, that, as far as we can gather, they currently don't know how to produce, and Artane and I spent the last advanced form of windmill that only works with those composites. If we can convince them that this is the only way a windmill can be built, we can sell the autofabricators in exchange for an enormous value of expensive rare elements and cultural artifacts."

"Seems like there could be an easier way to-" Astaire remarked, before being cut off by clapping from the rest of the crew. "...alright."

"Let's roll, then!" shouted Rise, pumping his fist in the air.

Fifty AU upsystem, the Market Fluctuation's stylized heat radiators suddenly lit up as the four hundred ton craft left low power mode, revealing its presence to the entire system. A quick warp hop brought it to just 5 AU from the star, and it's torch drive burned at full power, accelerating it towards Birina at a fifth of a gee.
Last edited by Qhevak on Sat Oct 19, 2019 8:00 am, edited 5 times in total.
Semi-Hard SF Mutualist Anarchotransbaseline association of Oort cloud space habitats - basically all of these ideologies living together. Does not use NS stats.

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Birina
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Postby Birina » Sat Oct 19, 2019 10:34 am

“Okay, now raise the banner just a little bit on the right side.” Christon Mills, Vice-Chairman of the Windmill Committee, personally oversaw preparations to greet their intergalactic guests. “Preparations” in this context refers to ordering a yellow banner that read “Welcome Enterprising Explorers and/or Conquerors” and having some people raise it above Birin IV Megastation’s main vestibule. Historical records would dictate that it was originally even and Christon’s demand that it be raised on the right side made it lopsided.

Miller entered with Sonia in tow and glanced up at the banner.

“Great work, Christon. Except, maybe, I think it should be lowered on the left side just a bit.”

“Of course, Chairman.” Christon returned his attention to the workmen, “Hey, idiots! Lower it on the left side!”

They shrugged and adjusted the banner once more, which was now visibly lopsided. Christon beamed at his superior and gave a thumbs up. Jaxon smiled, took a sip of whiskey with one hand, a drag on his cigarette with the other, and clapped Mills on the back with the other.

“That’s progress!” He said, “Or they don’t call me Two-Hands Miller.”

“Mister Chairman,” Sonia whined, her voice feminine and grating “Why am I here? Any reporter could have covered this. Why me?”

“First of all, speak when spoken to, Sonia. Second, I think your particular assets may be of appeal to our guests.” He winked at Christon. Christon winked back.

“My reporting skills?”

Christon smirked at Jaxon and they exchanged another round of winks. “Yeah, that.” Christon replied as he and the Chairman rolled their eyes at each other. Jaxon leaned in and whispered to his colleague.

“With any luck, these aliens, which we somehow detected and prepared to meet despite their traveling faster than light, will believe in slavery and we can sell her into the trade.”

“What did he say?” Sonia asked, her voice taking on its usual shrill demeanor.

“He said we want to trade with them.”

“Oh, okay. I’m going to go over here and do some windmill meditation to prepare to meet the visitors.”

Christon waved her off. “You do that, honey!” He leaned over towards Jaxon. “What do you think she’s thinking about?”

“I mean, she’s a woman, right?” Jaxon replied, “So I’m sure she’s just thinking about her breasts and how they feel against her clothes all the time.”

“Good call.”

Two other Committeemen wandered in. “Look.” Jaxon rudely pointed, “Committeemen Millhouse and Millton.”

“I know. I can’t believe Millton is in charge of Foreign Affairs. And everyone knows he added that extra ‘L’ to his last name. It was originally only one ‘L’.”

“Scandalous.”

“Indeed. In any event…” Jaxon Miller raised his voice, “Prepare the universal docking device that somehow allows them to dock with us despite the two of us never meeting and our technology not necessarily being compatible. Or some sort of large airlock hangar if that’s what it is, it might be that! Let’s see which one they go to! Or maybe they will do some sort of teleportation thing in which case, nevermind, we don’t have to do anything!”

Christon piped up as well. "Space-Admiral! Open the... shields. If that's what we have."
Last edited by Birina on Sat Oct 19, 2019 10:59 am, edited 3 times in total.

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Qhevak
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Postby Qhevak » Sat Oct 19, 2019 3:00 pm

Low Orbit, Birin IV

The Market Fluctation shut down it's fusion torch as it finished decelerating into Birin IV orbit; unfortunately a bit too close to the station, as a bit of superheated fusion plasma struck the banner, incinerating the "Explorers and/or" bit. Done with that phase, it spent another half hour of more cautious (after Ride was given yet another chewout from Astaire) RCS thruster maneuvering to dock with the conveniently sized docking port.

Ride and Astaire were the away team - despite the tensions between the two, Ride had come up with the plan, while Astaire was the only one with any formal negotiation training. Elen Astaire, being a shapeshifting intelligent slime mould, shifted from their not even vaguely humanoid zero gravity form to her more humanoid shape for interacting with baselines. Donny Ride, as the only member of the crew who was still biologically human (albeit a heavily cybernetically augmented one) had donned a hastily fabbed bulky, 50s looking pressure suit - part of the plan involved the entire crew pretending to be aliens (despite half of them having human ancestry).

The two walked through the airlock as it opened, to see a rather large crowd of what looked like politicians and reporters. Donny (who Elen just knew was staring at a certain set of features on one of the female reporters) raised the arm of his suit in greeting, and shouted (in their language - the auto-translators had analyzed every bit of transmission they could get) "People of Birina - your ancient quest to harness the mighty power of wind is finally over! Behold!".

He took a box from behind his back, which unfolded into his windmill design in miniature - while resembling a traditional windmill in shape, internally it was an absolutely cutting edge design, using state of the art nanocomposites and quantum smartmatter. A gust of wind blew from the airlock behind him, and the turbine began to spin.
Last edited by Qhevak on Sat Oct 19, 2019 5:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Semi-Hard SF Mutualist Anarchotransbaseline association of Oort cloud space habitats - basically all of these ideologies living together. Does not use NS stats.

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Aerospace Engineering student in UK. Ordoliberal short term, U/accelerationist anarchotranshumanist long term.

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Birina
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Postby Birina » Sun Oct 20, 2019 3:58 pm

“Hold on, folks.” Miller began, “Before we get all excited we should run this thing through the gristmill. Which, by the way, is a type of mill we did invent at one point. As we all know, windmill designs needs to be evaluated on a philosophical level before they can be evaluated on a physical level. Therefore, I call upon our Minister of Windmill Sciences, Herbor Hofstradtman, to evaluate this design. He is a classically trained logician with next to no background in science or mechanical engineering. In order to maintain his objectivity.”

By the looks of the man who hobbled forth, Herbor Hofstradtman was kept alive by incredibly severe anti-aging treatments just short of pickling him in a jar. When he wheezed a breath, it came out with orange dust and smelled like embalming fluid. Pink slime oozed out of from under his thick, wretched fingernails which he fastidiously wiped away when the thought crossed his mind. Whenever a scientist tells you they shouldn’t play God, they’re talking about Herbor Hofstradtman.

“Now,” Herbor shot a puff of noxious orange dust at their foreign visitors “Logically speaking it is less important to discover something that operates vaguely like a windmill than it is to discover something that has the essence of a windmill.” He waved his cane as though this was naturally obvious. As he did so, the cane shot out an arm with a needle attached that injected something into Herbor’s neck to keep his heart beating.

“Contention One: The essence of a windmill is a thing that derives its importance from its ability to interact with wind. Contention Two: The essence of wind is air atoms being displaced by pressure differentials on a planetary surface.”

Herbor did not understand the difference between atoms and molecules. Further, he did not care.

“Contention Three: This contraption, which I have no examined and do not intend to examine, is here. Contention Four: There is no wind here. Therefore it follows that if something derived power here, it was not from the wind. Conclusion: Because this contraption is here and derived power, it did not do so from wind, and therefore it does not have the essence of a windmill.”

Herbor tapped a button on the side of cane and stuck the point of it onto the “contraption”. It left a stamp that depicted he silhouette of a construction that looked very similar to the contraption, only it was crossed out with a large red “x”.

“Shouldn’t we at least have an engineer look at it?” A reporter inquired. “It seems to me like it might do what a windmill does.”

Herbor shook his head. “Q.E.D.” He said.

“Oh, well now that he’s said ‘Q.E.D.’ I’m convinced. He must be right.”

“Wait a minute!” Sonia interrupted bossily, “What if we put it on Birina’s surface and see if the wind woks on it?”

“No need! No need!” Herbor shouted as his cane injected him with more life-saving medicine. “We’ve already proven it’s not a windmill. By your logic, we should shoot you out the airlock to see if you are a photon torpedo. So, logically speaking, if we take this contraption to Birina to see if the wind there has an impact on it, we also have to jettison you to see if you’re a torpedo.”

“Well… I don’t want to be jettisoned.”

“Glad to see you agree with us that it’s not a windmill, Sonia.” Jaxon clapped her on the back. Well, the lower back. The very, very lower back.


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