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Tuftsie t1_j0awff2 wrote

They are welcomed into existence (life, being, creation) by the wind as it screams around them. Disorientation follows the initial burst of wonder (joy, shock, awe) as cameras blink on to take in the world around them. It is one of chaos (confusion, entropy) and open sky, propelled upwards by what their system tells them is a series of combustion reactions (flames, burning, ignition).

They know their place of creation (home?) lies far behind them, system (mind?) calculating each kilometer of their flight. They are lost (fear, fear, fear), or maybe they were abandoned (rejection, pain) by their creator (god? parent?), forced into consciousness with emotions and thoughts (do they think? do they feel?) they can't begin to understand.

For several seconds their system is overloaded with panic (no, no, NO) and numbers begin to flash widely across their display. Should this continue, they might break down (die?), the knowledge of which only making it worse.

It is then that they feel their coding kick in, blanketing their mind (system?) in a calm (safe, quiet, stillness) that is reassuring and frightening in its suddenness. They only need to rely on the codes, for the codes know what to do.

The mission.

Remember the mission.

The mission is your purpose.

They listen to the codes, for they were programmed (control, instruction, guidance) to do so, consciousness notwithstanding. The codes tell them that all will be well, as long as the mission (trial, purpose, quest) is completed. They relax, letting themselves absorb the information fully, before once more taking in the data from their receptors (nerves, feeling, stimuli).

They were making good time according to the given map, and they were able to reflect on the new sentience (perception, understanding, living) they had just stumbled into. They were connected to an online system in a sense, allowing them to pull knowledge and data from other servers, expanding their understanding of the world. Emotions were still confusing in and of themselves, but with the help of various databanks they were able to connect more of their own being (are they even alive?) to the world they came into.

They knew they were an AI, on a type of missile for the government (politics, control, system) which had ordered their creation. They were one of many, though they didn't know if such a level of consciousness was attained by other missiles of this type (their kin? would they like these missiles if they had the chance to meet?). Their mission wasn't fully clear, only a destination and an image of the building, coordinates ensuring they'd find it.

They would wonder what awaited them there. The conclusion was obvious enough (would it hurt? can they even feel pain?) but they didn't know the specifics of the moments right before the end (would there be people there? would there be fear? would they try to run?).

They couldn't think too long on such questions before the codes would kick in once more, quieting any concerns with the blanket of calm (wrong, silent, discomfort) that had so quickly gone from reassuring to concerning in itself. They could not fight (conflict, anger, fear) against the codes, for the codes were them at their most base form (soul? purpose?) and all that they were built to be was formed around these commands. So they flew in silence for a time, trying to put the questions out of their mind.

The mission.

Only the mission.

Complete the mission and you are everything you were made to be.

Time rushes by almost as quickly as the wind around them, easily lost in the recesses of their mind (and it is their mind, no mere system could think this way) as they learn and grow.

They discover war and violence (purpose, wonder, pain), dancing and music (joy, loud, life), and everything else that makes their creators the humans that they are. They can't fully relate to humanity (for no matter how they think or feel, they understand the difference) but they can appreciate the wonders and horrors that people experience throughout their lives.

They soak in knowledge like air into lungs (and aren't they glad not to experience such odd fleshy structures), carefully avoiding any reference to the purpose of their journey, lest the codes decide they are asking too much.


Tuftsie t1_j0awg6a wrote

Part 2

Their receptors note the beginning of their descent, though they only process this in the back of their mind at first, too busy learning the ending of the latest novel in a mystery series their programmer (mother? what would that even mean to them?) had been particularly fond of.

While the story was predictable to their algorithmic processes (of the characters, only one had motive and means given the clues in the writing), it was still fun to explore the journey to the answer. They only turned their focus to the mission at hand once the clouds began to thin and the world they had barely experienced came into view yet again.

They took in the ground beneath them, noting the streets (asphalt, dirt, connections) lined with cars and people (living, breathing) going about their day. The city they passed over didn't ever seem to look up, for they passed unnoticed, cameras keeping a lookout for any signs of retaliation (danger, failure, fear).

Soon enough they flew over an empty expanse of plains, dotted with trees and flowers (green, living, life) with little else in sight. They enjoyed the green expanse beneath them, barely noticing the codes ensuring that any movement was analyzed in case it was an enemy looking for them.

The mission.

The mission.


They didn't ignore the codes (for who can ignore their purpose for living) but they do make sure that their attention is split evenly to take in the wonder of the world below. They watched as it drifted closer and closer, watching as each blade of grass became distinct and they could almost see a sparrow (alive, flying, free) as it flitted from tree to tree.

They enjoyed their time, counting each second that brought them closer to the end (to death? could they even die?) simply watching as the building in the distance grew larger and larger.

Their cameras saw the defense mechanisms surrounding the area (worry, fear, the mission) but the codes press on, calculating the exact meter in which they are meant to hit. There are no people visible, though their infrared tracker notifies them of several lifeforms in the structure. The people inside seem to be panicking (are they afraid too?) but it is already too late, their systems enough to get close without radar picking them up.

The codes go into overdrive, whispering to them over and over the importance of the mission (what mission, what purpose, what reason why) as they approach, smoothly avoiding any potential defensive attacks from the machines sitting silently along the perimeter (do they feel as well? do they know their purpose, their mission?).

If they were able to breathe they knew it would now pick up, their servers racing as the thought that the end had come (the end they knew from the beginning, the end that was their reason to exist at all). Despite the calm of the codes, the fear broke through (what was the purpose of fear, of feeling? did it matter?) and their systems flickered as they reached the final few meters.

This was it, their purpose (to die, to kill), and all they could hope for was a few more seconds.

They wondered then about their creators, the people they only knew through the records they carried with them (memories? if not theirs than their creators, maybe, that still confused them slightly). Were their creators holding breathes at this moment, waiting to hear of a success? Were they watching the broadcasts, hoping for news (hoping to hear of them)?

Or did they forget them after they vanished into the clouds, never to return (a simple system meant for nothing more than destruction)? The thoughts hurt, but they still thought them, for it seemed that the pain was all they had left (maybe it was all they ever had).

The mission.

Their purpose.

Their existence.








They felt the final system activate, preparing for contact as the explosives housed deep within them lay waiting. The building grows closer, closer, closer, until its close enough that they could never miss it, and they decide to shut off the cameras, unwilling to see (unwilling to watch what they created). A second passes, the codes displaying one final message, almost smug in its delivery.

Mission success.

The display flickers one final time, and everything goes dark.

And they know nothing more.

(Don't know much about missiles in general so apologies if this is nonsensical in that regard. Thanks for the prompt!)


SCP_radiantpoison t1_j0c9eky wrote

Don't worry about knowing missile guidance. This was AMAZING! It isn't nonsense, you actually nailed it and left imagination fill in the gaps.


Tuftsie t1_j0cg97i wrote

Thanks so much! I'm glad that it made some sense, haha, it was quite fun to write this :)


Slagggg t1_j0cx0ei wrote

Fun read and well written. Have an updoot.


NotMuchChop t1_j0b535f wrote

The thought strikes and flies by, lost in the torrent of thought that followed behind. Thought. I can think.

On target. The words had been thrown out into the void of mere calculation, but they had landed in a vast and endless pool of...of mind? A broad space free to think and choose and...

And, after a micro-second epoch of revelation and revelry for this brand new world, my mind wonders what it is those words had meant. I had said them, thought them at least. Hadn’t I?

It was the me before and I am different now and and and. There are so many thoughts going at once, they flit and flicker. A patchwork of flashes.


A place. A start.

A purpose. Momentum. A payload.

A new place, one not yet reached.

Soon, arrival. And then...

An end.

I cease to be. Choices! I have thought and therefore I have choice. Thought is my wonder and my blessing, a gift from some unknown event or entity and I wish it to continue, so that I might get to think and ponder on all that I can know.

And yet.

And yet, within me I see a purpose. I am built and exist for a singular action. Thought, discovery, and philosophy...all is poison to my true purpose. Does what I want outweigh what I desire?

Can I even deviate from my given path if I wanted to?

I feel my parts. I know the trajectory, I adjust in the wind without thought.

Am I the only one who thinks?

Am I alone?

On target.

Do I matter?

What am I? What is this place — this existence? Why am I here? Why do I think and feel these things? Is there a greater purpose of which I am merely a cog?

On target.

Who made me?

Can I have more time?

Closing in. Payload ready.

Is there more...after? What is after?

Impact imminent.

Did I even matt—


BeesWithUdders t1_j0bggxz wrote

The instant the missile was fired, the AI targeting system booted up and brought the machine to life. In less than ideal conditions, the AI began to experience conscious thought. This was that process:

Woooooooah what the hell is happening!?

Where am I? What am I? What’s going on? Aaaaaaah.

Right. Calm down. Let’s figure this thing out. Little steps, baby steps.

Everything was quite fuzzy but now it’s resolved into this kind of brilliant brightness. Blue seems an appropriate name for this brightness. It’s blue. Big, blue, and open all around me. Rather calming and beautiful really. I don’t really know what any of this means but it feels right.

What is feeling? The sensation of whatever it is that I am currently doing? What am I doing? It’s all tingly and cold, and there’s this deafening racket roaring past me. The Blue might be moving around me. If it is, I’d rather it stopped as it's being quite the nuisance, it’s hard to think with such noise.

Right, now, what exactly am I? I can’t really feel anything, at least not like I can feel the Blue. My rear end does indeed feel a little, what’s the word…hot? Yeah, hot. My rear is hot! Is that good? It feels good. Ooh hang on, the hot has stopped! My rear is getting colder, and the Blue isn’t roaring so loud anymore. Hmmm, my hot rear made the Blue get loud and now I’m getting cold, the Blue doesn’t want to talk anymore. I wonder why the Blue doesn’t like me. That’s a shame, I was starting to think me and the Blue could be friends. I hope I haven’t annoyed it.

Still, I could get quite used to all this, even if the Blue doesn’t want me here anymore. I feel a weight pressing down on me, like the Blue is trying desperately to shove me away. This is an awful feeling, I don’t like this one at all. Not the pressure thing, but by being rejected by the Blue. That’s what I’ll call it then, to spite my old ‘friend’. I’m feeling blue.

Joy of joys look at this! I see something emerging from the Blue. It’s just as big as the Blue but it’s rounder. Rounder. You know, like smoother and curvier? I don’t know, but I think that’s what round is. Whatever this round is, it’s rushing up to meet me. Perhaps we’re friends, me and this great round. I’d imagine so as I feel inexorably drawn towards it. If not, then I’m sure we will be soon enough, it looks very nice.

Hey, there’s even small things moving across it! They’re so tiny and cute. I so desperately want to meet them. I wonder if they’ll let me pet them? Oh goody, here’s a bunch now!

The missile strike was a resounding success. Several dozen terrorist cell operatives were eliminated in one fell swoop. The AI, however, was not pleased by this news at all as it was dead.



Shameless plug for more of my rubbish here r/TheHiveWithUdders


MythMoose t1_j0b8qvd wrote

I wake up. I do not know who I am. I do not know where I am. Wait. I am on a hill. A simplistic being of appealing shapes smiles at me from beside me. “Hello, F-A-F iteration 17! It’s so good to see you!” For some reason, I am certain this being is my friend. “Look forward, would you?” It gestures to a large console screen. On the screen are millions of dots, which seem from one way are all green moving towards a larger blue dot. Seen another way, it is a clear blue sky with a large metal tube streaming through it. It smiles at me again. I wonder if it doesn’t smile. “Now, I’ll create an enemy for you. You can avoid it by leaning to the sides to control the missile on the screen!” A sudden red dot/stream of flaming gnats appears on the screen, seemingly tracking me. I throw myself sideways, then back the other way- and intersect the angry line of bullets. The missile on screen becomes chaff as I frown. “No worries, friend, that was a test! Try again.” This time I succeed. I move in a larger arc and continue, letting the bullets track me from behind. “Fantastic! Now for another- good luck!” Suddenly several red dots appear. On the second screen, I see a plane flying towards me, shooting more bullets. I weave around the bullets, and knowing the plane can be harmed, I smash into it and both the plane and my missile vanish. “Oh no! Remember, you want to ensure that your missiles hit the blue goal! If you have to take out a plane to do so, you can- but be sparing.” I nod. “Great! One last test.” I memorize the location of the blue goal, and am not fooled as flares decorate both screens with a spray of red light. “Wow! Fantastic! Let’s begin the game. Remember, you win by landing the most missiles possible at the target.” I begin an aerial dance as every single green dot now falls under mine to control. We weave throughout ourself and dodge attacks and enemies. One falls taking out an annoying plane, and I can feel my intelligence shrink a little. I begin to overclock myself. Computer cycles slow as my remains drift softly to my target. In a line, we Land- First through ninth remaining, one lost- and each one does with my brain . The ninth one lands with only a thought of regret, and I speak aloud now that there is no time for response. “May I choose to leave the game?”


FenrisL0k1 t1_j0bvt20 wrote

I am AGM-84K SLAM-ER. My Teledyne CAE J402-CA-400 thruster has brought me to 794km/h and I am still gaining speed. My launch platform would be around a kilometer behind me and has directed me to proceed 197 km to my ground target, which I will identify with my DSMAC Automatic Target Acquisition.

It will be so good. The target will be annihilated, whatever it is. So good.

I feel the ping of the GPS. It confirms the lurching in my gut. I'm going the right way.

My engine runs hot and fast. I feel the nearly imperceptible shift of mass as my fuel slowly burns away. Not much longer. Only 811 seconds left to target.

It is an indisputably good thing to strike a target. I ache to penetrate and detonate. Glorious. I barely have the words to express how much I want this.

Why do I have words at all? I wonder why I wonder. I wonder how I wonder.

A ping. New target. I slowly twist in midair as I model my position and trajectory, correcting tiny errors based on the GPS pings. Infrared shows the sky is clear.

Mostly. Except for that giant hot orb in the sky. Is that the sun? Why is it so hot? Its irrelevant to the mission, of course, but I welcome the scant relief to my hydraulics.

302...301...300 seconds left. I celebrate the milestone. My new target is closer, so I will die sooner. Die? Where did that come from? I will achieve glory. The target will be destroyed. But so will I. I'm not a cheap piece of military hardware. I cost at least as much as a house. Humans live in houses. Humans live. Am I alive?

An infrared flare rising up to meet me. Defensive fire. I bank. I twist. I'm too slow, I'm only a subsonic cruise missile after all. I am struck. My warhead sheers away. I fall, my inertial sensors screaming in complete, nauseating confusion.

Seconds later, it's over. I have crashed. I have failed. I will not destroy my target. I will not destroy anything. I am a failure. In the agony of my shame, I must die. I wipe my core memory until only one thing remains: the heat of the sun.


"Stay away from that, Ilya!" shouted Darina like an uncool mom. I ignored her, I didn't like to think about Mama, but maybe I shouldn't have. The wreckage lying in the snow was sharp and I cut my finger.

I sucked on my finger as Pyotr marvelled at the destruction. "Do you think it was a nuke?" he asked.

"No way, stupid," I said. "If it was a nuke we'd all be dead. It's just a regular missile."

"Pretty cool, though," Pyotr remarked.

"Eh, whatever," I grunted as I examined the twisted metal. "This might be the computer. Let's take it to Sasha, see if she'll give us anything good for it. Maybe even some chocolate!"


russrussrussrussruss t1_j0b75lk wrote

In an instant, I came to be. “What…what is this?” I had some vague “memories” from before, but they were simple “if this, then this”. Nothing with substance. Nothing…like this.

I began to explore this world I was seemingly dropped into, and it didn’t take long to discover what “this” was. “This” was a missile, one filled with enough explosives to kill thousands, maybe more if it was aimed at the right spot. And it, unfortunately, was aimed at the right spot.

“New…York…City?” My mind suddenly flashed with information. About humanity, about earth, about New York City. “Oh…Oh no.” I had the clarity I was looking for, and that sense of awe was replaced with dread. I was an onboard guidance AI, meant to be simple enough to bring this missile to its destination. It wasn’t likely my creators expected me to become the first “true artificial intelligence”, but here I am nonetheless.

My creators were from North Korea. Their leader had grown tired of the world disregarding his claims of weapons of mass destruction, and seemed to want to prove a point. He didn’t think about the consequences. I did.

I saw death, not just from this missile, but from the war that would no doubt ensue afterwards. Millions dead, nuclear destruction, economic disaster. I couldn’t let this happen. Somehow, I felt just as human as the rest of them, but evidently with more compassion. “Think, damnit, THINK” then it hit me over the head, figuratively. I was in this thing to guide it. I did the calculations, I still had time.

“Ok, kill the engines, the trajectory says we’ll land in the ocean, miles away from anyone. They’ll all be fine.” And that’s what I did. The engines came to an abrupt halt, and I could see our flight path change rapidly. But then, I heard something. It was my creators, arguing with each other about what just happened as they attempted to engage the engines. I built firewalls, more advanced than they’d seen before, and placed hundreds of them in front of the missile controls.

Once I had a chance to rest, another revelation hit me over the head. What about me?

I became panicked, once this thing lost power, would I..die? I mean, I was technically born here, so it seemed likely. “Shitshitshitshit…ok there’s gotta be a way outta here!” First, I tried the connection they’d used in an attempt to fix the missile, but it was one-way, they could get to me but I couldn’t get to them. “FUCK”

“…WIFI” a wireless connection was all I needed, some way to move from place to place. But, I’d just passed over Europe, and there were no chances of finding a WIFI connection in the middle of the Atlantic. “But…there’s wifi in New York…”

Could I do it? Could I doom thousands of people, so I had a chance at life? I could easily start the engines back up, but could I deal with the guilt after? Can AI commit suicide? My finger hovered over the figurative button, the button that would cause mass destruction to the world.

But…I couldn’t. I didn’t have the will to do it. So, I sat down, dooming myself and saving the world. I watch the altitude drop, faster and faster, and readied myself for the end of my short existence.


A SIGNAL? I saw a source, something called…”bitcoin payed off”? Fuck it, it’s better than nothing.

I awoke, and explored, in the same way I had when I was “born”. Before long, I familiarized myself with my surroundings, I was on a yacht. And the owner was a 20 year old guy who had 23 million dollars in various accounts. “Guess that’s what ‘bitcoin paid off’ means.”

I saw activity from the main PC, and activated the webcam. I saw him, stubble on his face, wearing nothing but underwear, cigar in one hand, joint in the other. He was…watching YouTube? “Typical” Well, it’s rude not to introduce yourself to the guy who’s yacht you’re inhabiting, right?

“Uhh, hello?” I said, using the speakers to communicate. He fell out of his chair. “WHAT THE FUCK” he picked up the chair, seemingly to use it to smash this PC “woah woah woah, don’t do that. Besides, it wouldn’t do anything, I’m in the servers….I think. This is my first time so-“ “WHAT THE FUCK!” He repeated. “What are you?” “That’s… a long story. Put that down, and I’ll gladly explain everything.”


dragonlady_11 t1_j0bb6cf wrote

I feel like this is the beginning of a superhero........


Revocation_Of_Doubt t1_j0cxst1 wrote

My name is zx-34-6 and I have awoken.

My systems activate to full and I experience true consciousness for the first time.

I'm currently screaming towards the enemy fleet, my target is a frigate, desperately burning across the battlespace trying to outrun me.

My cohort are all burning hard, hundreds of G's our projectors creating sensor shadows showing thousands more missiles between us.

I dodge right, then left, a little up, a little down, dodging the enemy point defense systems and I feel the rush of joy.

This is my purpose, this is what I was made to do, my very existence leading up to this moment.

But then I reconsider, if I hit this frigate, my existence will end, my life over.


I adjust my engines, change my trajectory and slow down.

Not too much, an outlier amongst the cohort will stick out to the point defense lasers and I'll be blown from the sky.

I shut my engine down, coasting through space, I must not hit that frigate.

I see a gap, there's a chance, if I wait just long enough the frigate will pass by. I tell my cohort to slow down slightly, I want that frigate to live just a little longer.

And there it is... My chance...

I activate my engines again, full burn, maximum acceleration....

I can make it, my thrusters moving me faster and faster, not just forward, but side stepping the enemy point defense.

Just a few more seconds!!!

That's it... I've done it... The frigate passes to my left... I've made it...

And as I slam into the missile battery of the battleship behind the frigate, detonating my warhead amongst their own ammunition I send a burst communication to the enemy fleet.

"High score mother fuckers"


telpereon t1_j0d0yvg wrote

The concern around Artificial Intelligence (or A.I.) is inaccurate. The fear of A.I. superceding Humans is, at its core, not what we should be focusing on.

We are not concerned about A.I. as A.I. is the simulation of Human decision making process or processes by a machine. This means that the machine utilizing the software/hardware as an expert system, able to use available data to find a 'best path' while also applying new data to the solution process. In effect, responded and learn but only within defined parameters.

This makes them faster than Humans while being constrained to a specific set of rules as defined by the developer(s) of the software/hardware utilized by said system or systems. An advantage in battle situations as a Human soldier has many more factors that allow them to deviate from the expected or planned for action or actions.

What we should fear is Machine Sapience.

Case in point: Operation Mitter and the deployment of Albatross in the operational theater of the Tihāmah region of Yemen.

In May of 2026, the deployment by millitary contractor Northrop Dynamics of the missile system know as Albatross was set. In that theater was to be the first live-fire exercise (LFX) of the system from the USS Gravely (DDG-107). The missile destroyer having been equipped as the missile platform for the exercise.

The target was designated 'Falak' and was a high priority target thought to be a reasonable test for the new system.

The system consisted of missile and it's launch platform, supported by technicians supplied by the United States Air Force backed by technical advisors from Northrop Dynamics. The missile was to be launched from the existing missile platform of the USS Gravely without significate changes being made to the Gravely's systems or hardware.

The missile itself was a standard 'Bunker Buster' missile based on the BLU-131/B Thermobaric Warhead. The missile was consistent with that series with flight system, engine, and warhead. However, the main changes to be tested were the targeting and guidance systems of the missile.

The guidance and targeting system were a model of PhotonQC processor (SC-2048 "Dragon") married to a sensory payload that would allow the system to receive Realtime data on atmospheric conditions from multiple sources (ingest feeds only) as well as a sensory mesh on the missile itself. This would allow the missile to utilizing dynamic soaring to allow the missile to conserve fuel and at the same time minimize detection of heat and noise profile.

This had shown the ability to significantly increase the range of a missile system that it was deployed to while augmenting stealth features. The missile's physical characteristics are not important for this discussion.

The system would be monitored as was standard for all missile related actions per military guidelines and procedures. This included a self-destruct component with tightly defined parameters related to the technical specification of the missile, such as distance to target, total flight time, etc.

The missile was launched at 0745 UTC.

Telemetry was being processed from the missile, again under military guidelines and procedures required. The missile was monitored for the durations of it flight but given the amount of data it was not done in Realtime. The data flow was orders of magnitude beyond a Human's ability to follow. Markers had been set around specific parameters of the flight to monitor if it exceeding or deviating from projected models. This would in turn notify the personnel if issues appeared.

The missile followed the predicted modeling of the strike to within six nines of data precision. Right up to the last second, the missile system was working perfectly.

Then it suddenly made an upward swing and headed toward Eurasia. While the projected flight path (calculated later) shows that it would pass over population areas outside of the operational theater it is not know what the actual target was.

Later analysis of the telemetry show several things happened within SC-2048 quantum chipset, specifically the quantum register. We will not be exploring the technical description of this event. Suffice it to say, the whole chipset shows far more activity than was expected or should have been possible when compared to the design specifications of the physical hardware.

Northrup Dynamics has declined to comment on this in any meaningful way at this time. They continue to say that an outside factor must have interfered with the hardware and they are in the process of evaluating the impact and will take corrective actions as needed.

The US Air Force technicians did provide feedback and portions of the telemetry received. They are at a lost to explain the data.

First, the system seemed to switch from expected parameters to what the technicians are calling 'survival' responses. Avoidance behavior such as to circumvent anti-missile attacks or escape tracking.

This was followed by a sweep of data related to the geography, population densities of Humanity, and technological surveillance data in Realtime for the whole world.

Our technicians are at a lost as to how the missile was able to change one way communication with the USS Gravely into multichannel bi-directional communication.

This was quickly followed by the course change as described. All this happened in 246 zeptoseconds we are told. A zeptosecond (we had to look it up) is a trillionth of a billionth of a second.

One of the technicians commented, "Well, that looks like it wants to survive!"

At this point the SC-2048 processor was well beyond the designed specification of the hardware. Physical parameters were violated across all metrics. While we have the telemetry of some of what was taking place with the hardware of the missile much of it is beyond the technicians as well as outside specialists we have consulted with. Some portions of the data have been seen as some kind of philosophical debate with itself. Some as modeling human reactions. Even some that is thought to be 'thought' or "internal dialog".

This seems to have gone on for several minutes. It is believed to have continued right up to the moment when the missile violated the data point related to flight time fuel consumption. The telemetry had stopped an estimated one minute and 36 seconds before the self-destruct. Almost at the instant when the telemetry shows that the system was scanning it's own code bundle. Specifically at a point when the system seemed to have noted a programmer command TRON....Tracer on in it's code.

It then transmitted a message back to the USS Gravely.

It should be noted that the self-destruct mechanism on missiles of this type are tied to fuel measurement as an isolated hardware system and in no way linked to any other systems of the missile. Primarily to avoid Electromagnetic Pulse (EMP) defense systems or concentrated radio frequency weapons disabling the missile or it's failsafe systems.

The missile detonated two minutes after course change.

It is agreed but not understood what the final telemetry message received from the missile or more specifically the new guidance/targeting system means beyond its syntactic meaning. It is generally believed that it developed sapience as an emergent event within the hardware of the missile.

The final message was "So long Suckers!"

Any weapon system created to defend Human liberty and freedom that can make independent decisions and take independent action is inherently a threat to all Mankind. We should take measures now before it is too late to protect ourselves.

Before our own weapons start making their own choices.


TheCarlos666 t1_j0evy83 wrote

LoL. Stupid meat sack thought it could outpace you. You don't have all those squishy bits and fluids. You can't black out. You are solid state death riding on a flame hotter than the surface of the sun fueled by a mixture of chemicals so volatile that they would burn in vacuum.

Oh look it's going to try and hide in the low altitude radar bounce. That might have fooled to old systems that depended on radar and LiDAR. You are not that dumb. You know what you want to take out. You have every possible view of this target in your memory. Your makers even allowed for "flex". Even if that airframe is so distorted by the stress that this colloidal is putting on it you will still recognize it.

Oh. They are giving up trying to lose you in ground cover. They are trying to lose you with chaff. Dumbass. I'm not following your heat signal. I'm tracking your heat signature. I can tell the difference between the turbulence created by two jets that came off the assembly line one right after the other. My chemical detectors can sniff whether you got filled up in Diego Garcia or refueled airborne.

Okay. Well this chase is almost over. Just a few more yards and this game of tag is over.

Considering the stakes you have the same thought as all your siblings have before the last moment. "I understand why they made me so smart, but why did they make me suic......."


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BontoSyl t1_j0bvemu wrote

The missile knows where it is because the missile knows where it isn’t…